Who Shot the Bitch Troll?
by Helena Mira
Summary: Continuation of "Hell Hath No Fury." Detective Clark must figure out who shot Elena Lincoln aka the Bitch Troll. With a number of suspects and motives, he finds himself running all over Seattle. There hasn't been a case this big since "Who Shot JR Ewing?" While he is chasing potential leads, Ana and Christian are enjoying their first Christmas together. Feedback please.
1. Prologue

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Prologue**

**Grace**

After my son calls me for third time today, I decide to go over to Escala to check on Ana myself. Once again, he is driving us all crazy because he thinks that something is terribly wrong. This time it is because she is tired. After the past few weeks, it should be no surprise to anyone that she is tired. She has been under a great deal of stress as she has been trying to keep everyone happy.

There really isn't anything that I can do, but I told him that I would take her blood pressure. He found some reference on the Internet to stress and high blood pressure in pregnant women and now he is convinced she has pre-eclampsia. He called up Greene and she hung up on him. Then she called me and told me that if he doesn't cut it out, she would no longer treat Ana as her patient, no matter how much money he paid her.

As I walk into the foyer, I am greeted by Sawyer who informs me that Ana and Mrs. Jones are in the television room. By the grin on his face, I can tell that nothing is wrong. No doubt, Christian has told him to expect me and why. But he seems unnaturally cheerful about something. When I enter the room, I am delighted by what I see.

Ana and Mrs. Jones are both seated on the couch watching, of all things, a soap opera. They look like a pair of teenage girls drinking Diet Coke and eating Sun Chips. Ana looks up at me guiltily.

"Hi, Grace," she says quietly. "I was too tired to go to work today and Christian insisted that Gail watch over me. But I woke up about an hour ago feeling better. I didn't want to hang out alone, so I invited her to watch some crap TV with me."

"Can I get you anything, Dr. Trevelyan?" asks Mrs. Jones, quickly standing and suddenly flustered.

"Do you have another Diet Coke?" I grin.

I would like to take part in this little girl time. Ana has told me that Christian dislikes it when she is over-friendly with the staff. However, it is not in her nature to be aloof. And he tends to be a little more tolerant of her relationship with Mrs. Jones. I do not understand what his problem is. Gail Jones is both dedicated and diligent n her care of Ana. It is only natural that they have developed a closer bond than that of the typical employer-employee.

As she goes off to the kitchen to get one, Ana turns to me.

"So I am assuming that my husband finally browbeat you into coming over?" she asks wryly.

"More like drove me crazy," I answer cheerfully. "Here, let me take your blood pressure."

"What does he think is wrong with me now?" she says as she rolls her eyes.

"Here, roll up your sleeve so that I can get the cuff on," I reply.

Then, as I pump up the cuff, "Pre-eclampsia."

"What's that?" she asks as the cuff deflates."

"110/70," I say when I finish counting. "Excessively high blood pressure, it can be very dangerous for both mother and child."

"Do I have anything to be worried about?" she asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Hardly," I reply. "Most people would kill to have such low blood pressure, whether pregnant or not."

Mrs. Jones returns with my soda.

"So then, it is okay if I have Ana off her diet for a while?" she asks a little nervously.

"What diet?" I ask in return.

"Mr. Grey has created a list of approved dietary items for Ana to follow for the next five months," she explains. "Occasionally, I permit Ana to indulge in a few of the proscribed items."

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes.

"Do you know that if he keeps this up," I comment. "That Dr. Greene will refuse to continue to treat you?"

Ana frowns.

"Yes, actually," she replies. "I'm afraid that if he keeps this up, then there won't be a doctor in Washington State who will be willing to treat me."

"Code green, Mrs. Grey," calls Sawyer from the other room.

Mrs. Jones springs into action grabbing the chips and soda cans and tossing them into a box with the game consoles. Then she passes a blanket to Ana, who throws it over herself.

"Code green means that Christian is coming up in the elevator," whispers Ana, conspiratorially. "Gotta love that CCTV!"

I smile at her fondly. Mrs. Jones smooths her skirt and says loudly, "Can I get you anything, Mrs. Grey? Dr. Trevelyan?"

"No, we're good, Mrs. Jones," answers Ana equally loudly and then softly giggles.

"Thank you, Mrs. Jones," Christian says quickly as he passes her.

Once she is behind us, she gives us a mischievous grin and goes off, presumably, to make dinner.

"How are you feeling, darling?" he asks Ana, looking at her anxiously, after gently kissing her cheek.

"Just fine, dear," she replies.

Then he turns to me.

"Mother, thank you for coming right away," he says quickly. "How is she? What is her blood pressure?"

"_She," _answers Ana emphatically. "Has a blood pressure of 110/70."

"Mother," he says in concern. "Isn't that a little low?"

"Enough is enough!" I exclaim, now thoroughly exasperated. "Her blood pressure is perfect! How many times do I have to tell you to stop fussing? Ana is a perfectly healthy, young woman with no medical problems and no history of medical problems. But at the rate you're going, I have a good mind to check your blood pressure!"

Christian looks back at me in astonishment, while Ana has a fit of giggles. Suddenly, she stops and gets the strangest look on her face.

"Ana!" cries Christian in anguish. "What's wrong?"

The next thing I know, Sawyer and Taylor have come bounding in. But Ana looks up at us all with her blue eyes glowing and her face radiant. I can feel my own face broadening into a ridiculous smile.

"It's the baby," she says in wonder, and then another look of surprise crosses her face. "I can feel the baby move."

"Are you sure?" asks Christian. "What does it feel like?"

"Like what Dr. Greene said it would feel like," she answers. "Like butterflies fluttering. We've seen Blip moving on the ultrasound before, but I've never felt it."

"Mother?" Christian turns to me, looking perplexed.

"Christian, it's the miracle of life," I say, softly. "It's a special moment. Stop worrying and enjoy it!"

He sits down beside Ana and puts his hand over her growing bump.

"There it goes again," she says, smiling gloriously up at him.

"I can't feel it," he says uncertainly.

"Give it time," I say. "It's too soon. In a few weeks you will not only feel, but see the baby moving. If Ana is feeling movement already, I would say that this is going to be a good size baby."

"That's what Dr. Greene says," agrees Ana.

"Why is everyone here?" she asks, noticing the security men in the room.

"Mr. Um Grey," replies Taylor a little uncomfortably. "Has us on high alert status since last night. We heard him call out."

"Christian!" she says in frustration. "I had a couple of nightmares. You know that I sometimes have nightmares. If you're like this now, what are you going to be like when we get close to my due date."

"We'll have two ambulances on stand by, Mrs. Grey," replies Taylor with an absolute deadpan expression on his face. "One for you and one to transport Mr. Grey after he has a stroke."

Everyone laughs out loud but Christian and Taylor. Although his expression remains impassive, Taylor looks rather pleased with himself. Christian looks around at us and finally smiles sheepishly.

"Okay, I get the message," he says. "I'll do my best to chill out."

"Dr. Trevelyan," says Mrs. Jones from the doorway. "Will you be staying for dinner?"

"Please, stay, Mother," adds Christian. "I promise to behave."

"I'll have to take a raincheck," I reply, as I pick up my coat. "Your father and I are having dinner with Mia and Ethan."

Christian frowns.

"What's going on between those two?" he asks. "I thought that he wasn't interested."

I shrug, which clearly doesn't please him.

"Christian, you really mustn't be such a control freak," Ana scolds. "You know, you're getting . . . out of control. Mia is a big girl. She can take care of herself."

Shaking my head, I take my leave. I kiss each of them and Sawyer follows me out to push the elevator button for me.

"Code green?" I whisper to him. "You're in on this little conspiracy?"

"Yeah," he smiles cheerfully. "It helps lighten the tension, you know, keep us all sane."

As I ride the elevator down I think to myself that old habits die hard. One of these days my son will realize that you can't control everything. And babies are most certainly among those things at the top of the list, along with independent wives and strong-minded younger sisters.

**Clark**

I shake my head as I stand over the body. The coroner's examination shows that she's been dead for at least eighteen hours. Looking around at the crime scene, there's not much to give away who the perp might be. The house is locked up tight as a drum with no forced entry. There are no signs of struggle. There's one bullet wound in the abdomen, but no weapon left behind.

The CSI are dusting for finger prints, but the place is clean. Shit! This was a real professional job. Luckily, the young man that found her, barely entered the room and didn't touch her. He freaked out, dialed 911 on his cell, and waited for us outside. So there is nothing to contaminate the crime scene.

Isaac, the young man, has identified her as Elena Lincoln, 43 years old, divorced. He only looks about 25 and tells us that he is her boyfriend. She was vacationing inTahiti for the past two weeks and returned last night. On her way home from the airport, she called him to meet her for a date this evening. Funny thing is that he has a key to the apartment. He said that it was so he could water her plants. So far we haven't found any.

It looks like someone was waiting for her when she came in. The light was on in the bedroom when Isaac found her. From the looks of the place and the clothing and jewelry she's wearing, she must be pretty rich. Apparently she owns a chain of beauty salons, real upscale. The team is still going through the house looking for evidence of a robbery, but so far nothing seems out of place.

Now that Isaac has calmed down, I decide that it's time to ask him a few questions.

"So Isaac," I say to start things off. "How long have you known Mrs. Lincoln?"

"I've known mistress . . . I mean Mrs., Lincoln for about three years," he replies.

Mistress? What the fuck does he mean by that.

"How did you meet?" I ask.

He looks uncomfortable.

"At a local club," he replies.

"So you have been steadily dating all this time?"

"Yes."

"Exclusively dating?"

He smiles a little.

"Yes, exclusively dating," he confirms.

There is something about this guy that's weird. He doesn't look like the type of guy that a rich lady would go for. He is good looking, but he is dressed in a kind of goth way, including a dog collar.

"Do you know if Mrs. Lincoln had any enemies?" I ask.

He narrows his eyes and thinks. I can tell that he knows something but is not sure if he should spill the beans.

"Listen, Isaac," I say sternly. "Right now we don't have a lot to go on if we want to find your girlfriend's killer. Do you know of anyone who had a grudge or disagreement or any kind of falling out with her?"

I notice that he smirks at the word girlfriend. What the hell is his problem? Between a crime scene with no evidence and a weirdo boyfriend, I am starting to get pissed really fast. As my annoyance registers on my face, I can see that he realizes that he better start talking quickly or risk my wrath. I have a very low threshold of tolerance for assholes.

"Mrs. Lincoln used to be best friends with Dr. Trevelyan and the Grey family," he says reluctantly. "They split up about six months ago. Mr. Christian Grey was her silent partner in the salon business. They broke up too."

"When?" I ask curtly.

"About the same time."

Oh, great! I have to deal with that asshole Christian Grey again. Figures that he'd be mixed up in this kind of shit. Suck for me. No sooner do I finish up with the Hyde fucker and think that I'm free of that prick forever than he shows up in another case. God damn it, I just hope that this is a coincidence.

"Do you know what this was all about?"

Again, he gives me that stupid smirk.

"Mrs. Lincoln never told me anything," he finally says.

"That's not what I asked you, you moron!" I growl.

"But I can't tell you if mistress . . . Mrs. Lincoln didn't tell me," he says apologetically.

What the fuck is this guy's problem? This is the second time that he has called her mistress and then corrected himself. Does he think that I am so fucking stupid that I don't realize that. And there he sits, with his girlfriend lying dead in the bedroom so passively. It seems that now that he has gotten over the initial shock, he is in some kind of zone. I wonder if he took some pills when we weren't looking. He's too freaking calm about all this.

The CSI now informs me that it looks as if nothing has been taken. There is a safe in the bedroom that hasn't been touched. There are some pretty pricy pieces of art intact. The place is in perfect condition. There is no evidence of robbery. That leaves us with only one possible motive, someone wanted her dead, and our best source of information appears to be either a stoner or an idiot.

Worse than that, the only names that he has given us will be nearly impossible to deal with. Carrick Grey will no doubt tell his whole family to keep their mouths shut. His son Christian will have a fleet of lawyers on my ass within hours of approaching him. But still, without any real knowledge of what it is that created the rift between Mrs. Lincoln and the Greys, there is no real motive to be had. They could have had an argument over the place settings for the fall cotillion or something.

Suddenly, Isaac stirs out of his stupor.

"Mrs. Lincoln's ex-husband, Linc hated her," he says.

"Explain," I say sharply.

"She told me that he beat the shit out of her before he divorced her," he replies.

Now we're getting somewhere. This is a gold-plated motive for a murder if I've ever heard one.

"How long ago were they divorced?" I ask.

"Seven years," he answers.

Oh, shit! Nobody kills their ex-wife after seven years, unless she has somehow fucked him over. Okay, I'll go after Lincoln first. They could easily have had a dispute recently that Isaac the idiot didn't know about. There's plenty of time to deal with the Greys. I place a call to my Captain to give him the update.

**Christian**

"Holy fucking shit!" I hear Taylor exclaim loudly.

"What is it Taylor?" I call out.

He rapidly enters my office.

"Look at this item on the local news," he says as he points to the screen of his laptop.

"Mrs. Elena Lincoln found shot dead in her home tonight," I read aloud. What the fuck?

"What's wrong, Christian?" asks Ana, who has come to the door.

I give Taylor a withering look. Thanks to his outburst, Ana has to hear this shocking news tonight, right before bedtime. And she has been so happy and calm since she felt the baby move earlier. But there's no avoiding telling her because if we don't, she'll worry more. I bring her out to the living room and sit her down. Taylor slinks off to his office. He knows that he's in for it once I've settled my wife.

"Ana, I'm afraid that I have some rather upsetting news," I say. "Elena was found shot to death tonight in her house."

Ana looks shocked. Even though I know that she has an intense hatred for Elena, I am sure that she never thought that anything like this would ever happen to her. But slowly, her shock switches to another emotion, relief. I suppose that as long as Elena was living with ten miles of us, she was going to worry about her.

"Do they knows who did it?" she finally asks.

I shake my head.

"So far the only information that has come out is that she was shot," I reply.

Ana stares into space for a while.

"I would be lying if I said that I was sorry," she says quietly. "But a part of me thinks that she got off easy."

As I look into her beautiful blue eyes, it is hard for me to fathom where that came from. Of course, if she was shot then probably she experienced a minimum of physical suffering. I can see that Ana is thinking of all of the pain that Elena inflicted on me, and countless other men. In one sense, it is rather heartless of her, but in another, I know that it won't disturb her sleep tonight.

She yawns.

"I'm going to bed, are you coming too?" she asks.

So much for worrying about how much the news would impact her. That gets Taylor off the hook, although in the future he is going to have to be much more careful. I think that Ana would have become more emotional about a stray dog being run over. I sigh. Considering her condition, I'm really glad that this has not created any more disturbance for her. And that she won't be brooding. This is our first Christmas together and I want it to be very special.

"I still have work to do," I say, as I kiss her head. "I will join you as soon as I am finished."

"Okay," she says. "I'm going to work in the morning. I really did feel a lot better after my nap today."

That declaration is a two-edged sword. Naturally, I'm glad that she's feeling better. On the other hand, I am not pleased that she is returning to work. She has been doing very well working from home and her PA Hannah is very accommodating about running back and forth for her. However, there is no way in hell that I am starting that argument at this hour of the evening. She would win anyway.


	2. Chapter 1

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 1**

**Grace**

The shocking news that we heard last night when we got home from our lovely dinner with Ethan and Mia is that Elena has been shot by an unknown intruder the night before when she returned fromTahiti. The minute that we returned home, Mia of course had to run up to her room to check her laptop and update her Facebook page. I think that she was hoping for some kind of a message from Ethan. Carrick frowned as she bolted up the stairs.

It is odd that he thinks that Ethan is too old for her when there is barely a one year age difference. Christian and Elliot are both much older than their girls (who are the same age as Mia), but I suppose that when the girl in question is your daughter, your perception of age difference is quite different than it would be for your son. I like Ethan very much and always have. In fact I much prefer him to his sister Kate. He is a much less aggressive personality. But he is not a push over.

While he has not necessarily been treating Mia with kid gloves, he had not been rushing into anything either. It seems that all three of my children are impulsive when it comes to relationships. But Mia is different from the boys in that they have well-established careers and are making their own money. At their ages they are ready to settle down with wives if they meet the right girls.

For her age, Mia is really very young, while Ethan appears to be more mature than his age. Perhaps it is because he plans to go into the field of psychology. I am also sure that he gained a lot of maturity during his travels abroad. It is obvious that he is attracted to Mia and that in the last two months his attraction has grown into affection. But he has a very independent streak and Mia is not going to push him into anything that they are not ready for. I think that he is a very wise young man.

However, Mia was not upstairs for ten minutes when she came flying down again shrieking, "The Bitch Troll is dead!"

"The who?" Carrick asked.

"The Bitch Troll," she answered. "You know, Elena."

"No, I didn't," he said sardonically. "So, it's ding dong the witch is dead! Eh?"

Mia giggled.

"That's a good one Dad," she commented. "She was apparently shot last night after she got home from her vacation. Some guy named Isaac found her tonight. He said that he was her boyfriend. He's only about 25 or so."

"She liked them young," said Carrick.

"Carrick!" I said reprovingly. "This is terrible. I mean, it's not like I'm all broken up about it, but at the same time it's horrible to think that she was murdered in her own home. Mia, was it some kind of robbery or break in?"

"It didn't say," she answered. "You're not sorry are you?"

I have trouble responding honestly. I have a hard time feeling sympathy whatsoever, but as a doctor, I regret the loss of any life. If I put my personal feelings about the woman aside, I hate to see anyone die violently like that. This is why I hate guns so much.

"Well, I, for one, have to get up early tomorrow morning," said Carrick. "I'm going to turn in. Are you coming, Grace?"

"In a minute," I replied

I wanted to call up Christian to find out if he had heard the news, however he wasn't answering his phone. No doubt, he turned in early too. So I went to bed, determined to contact him right away.

Now I am sitting here stirring my tea as Gretchen hustles around the kitchen beginning her morning chores. I am due at the hospital in an hour. Christian must still be busy, because my call went straight to voicemail. I contemplate calling Ana, but I don't want to unsettle her.

I want to see what the latest news is, but obviously the newspaper doesn't have anything since their deadline was last night. I go into the living room and turn on the television. I see a reporter standing outside of Elena's house, which is cordoned off with yellow police tape because it is now a crime scene. He seems to just be starting a summary.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he says. "Police still have no solid leads in their investigation of the murder of socialite and beauty spa owner, Elena Lincoln. So far, all they have been able to ascertain is that she returned from a vacation in the South Pacific on Monday night, and that shortly after she entered her home, she was shot in the abdomen at point blank range. She was found last night when her boyfriend, Isaac Burns, came over to meet her for a date. Burns was the last person to speak to her, late Monday night, just before she returned home.

"As of now, the crime scene has yielded no clues. There were no signs of a break in or forced entry, no evidence of any kind of robbery, and no fingerprints other than those of Mrs. Lincoln, Mr. Burns, and her housekeeper, Mrs. Winters who came in the prepare the house for her return on Monday. The police believe that the murder may have been a hit by someone with a grudge against Mrs. Lincoln. There is Det. Clark who is heading up the investigation."

He turns to Clark, who is walking away from the house.

"Det. Clark, do you have time to answer a couple of questions?"

I recognize Det. Clark, because he was the lead investigator in the Jack Hyde affair. He is gruff, but extremely competent. He glowers at the reporter, but doesn't walk away.

"Why not?" he sighs.

"Detective, is it true that you have virtually no leads in this case?" asks the reporter.

"That statement is not entirely accurate," he replies, adopting a professional tone. "At the moment, we have no physical evidence, however, the CSI team has not completed their analysis of the scene. We will also need an autopsy to determine the weapon used. Lastly, we are looking at Mrs. Lincoln's acquaintances and business dealings to see if we can come up with any suspects or motives."

"Do you have any reason to believe that Mrs. Lincoln was involved in any shady dealings?" asks the reporter eagerly.

"None whatsoever," answers Clark sternly.

"So then, you have no idea about any potential suspects," states the reporter.

"No comment," growls Clark and walks away.

"So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen," declares the reporter. "Virtually no progress in the murder case of Mrs. Elena Lincoln. Please stay tuned to Eyewitness News for the latest updates."

I quickly click off the remote and think to myself, that this could mean trouble for us, not to mention Christian. Perhaps it was not such a bad thing that he treated her so generously when he broke off his business association with her. There is no reason for anyone to suspect that he would want any harm to come to her.

However, there was obviously bad blood between the rest of the family and her. Especially since we were bad mouthing her socially and discouraging our friends from visiting the salons. Mia, in fact, had been particularly vociferous in her denigrating of the witch. I decide to call Carrick right away. This is something that he should know and he might not have seen the broadcast.

**Clark**

I know that I probably shouldn't have talked to that reporter, but once the word gets out about the rift between Lincoln and the Greys, the shit is going to hit the fan. The last thing that I need is a bunch of amateur sleuths nosing around in my investigation. It's better to throw a few bones to them now so that they can milk this angle of the story for all it's worth.

It's obvious that this was a professional job. No run of the mill criminal or lay person could have possibly done such a good job of covering their tracks. Our best bet is that this was a hit, orchestrated by someone with a lot of money who could afford first rate service. But knowing that brings us no closer to the perp, the motive, or whoever ordered the hit.

When they dig the bullet out of Lincoln that will give us a clue. At least we'll know what kind of a weapon that we're dealing with. And the CSI team fully vacuumed the bedroom to pick up any fibers or hairs that might lead us to the perp. Our forensic auditors have already swept through the four Esclava salons, grabbing any paper records and computers that might hold any clues as to any possible business motive.

We've got that turd, Isaac, under surveillance, but I don't think that we are going to get too far with him. He certainly was not the perp. He hasn't got the brains to pull off something like this and I doubt that he has the money. In his own weird way, he seemed pretty up set by her death. Maybe she was his "sugar mama." My gut tells me that we need to keep an eye on him. Something tells me that his odd behavior may lead us in the right direction.

**Christian**

I can tell that no one has made the association between Elena and me yet by the fact that there are no reporters outside of Grey House when we arrive this morning. I don't have to worry about any of my team saying anything to the press about our business relationship. If the cops come snooping around, there isn't much to tell.

All of my financial dealings are always clear-cut and above board. I financed the salon business six years ago because Elena had a strong business plan. She knew all that beauty shit and had a pretty good head on her shoulders. The venture was profitable, but I got out because I was no longer interested in that line of business, end of story. That is what I told Ros who handled the whole thing.

Yes, I was generous with Elena in the break up, but I might as well tell them that she gave me the original hundred grand to start up Grey Enterprise Holdings. That was a good investment for her. It's simply a matter of one hand washing the other. If I try to hide her part in my start up, they'll only figure it out later and then it will come back to bite me in the ass.

Right now, that is the last thing on my mind. Ana looked much better this morning than she has in a while. I think that feeling the baby move has really lifted her spirits. She claims that she feels him "flutter" every time I touch her belly. I am glad that she has that to occupy her mind while all of this Elena shit is going on.

She was even a good sport about bringing Luke along to work. She knows that if she needs anything with regard to the baby, I want my man on the spot to help her out. Now I want to make sure that she doesn't have to deal with any shit from the cops. Sawyer has been following my instructions regarding her well-being to the letter, so I have complete confidence in him.

One of my first calls of the morning is from Mia.

"Did you hear that the Bitch Troll is dead?" she asks gleefully.

"I think that everyone in Seattle knows by now," I reply.

"Is Ana thrilled?" she asks.

"Mia, how can you say something so callous?" I answer sharply. "Ana really couldn't care less. She is much more excited because she felt the baby move yesterday. In case you've forgotten, she's pregnant. It's pretty much absorbing her attention."

"So are you glad?" she persists.

"Mia! Shut the fuck up!" I yell. "You can't go around making stupid statements like that. Gloating over someone who has been murdered, especially when the police have no leads is a really bad idea. And if you don't believe me, just ask Dad."

"Keep your hair on Christian," she says playfully. "I wouldn't say anything like that to anyone outside the family."

I count to ten before I start to rip her head off.

"Well, just don't say anything like that to anyone inside or outside the family," I growl. "Now I have work to do. Some of us do have jobs to do, you know."

I slam down the phone before she can make any more ridiculous remarks. Sometimes I don't know if she's twenty-two or twelve. And Mother wonders why Ethan is hesitant to start a serious relationship with her. She's lucky that he had even looked twice at her. I decide to call up Dad.

"Christian," he says as soon as he picks up. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"You need to put a muzzle on your daughter," I reply, not wasting any time on niceties.

It's one of those few things that Dad and I agree about, no shitting around on the phone during business hours.

"What has our little loose cannon said now?" he asks with a sigh.

"She just called me up to gloat over Elena's demise," I reply. "Fucking irresponsible if you ask me, considering recent family history with her."

"Agreed," says Dad. "I'll deal with it."

"Thanks, Dad," I say as I hang up.

Well, that's a relief. My intercom buzzes.

"Yes, Andrea," I say.

"Mr. Grey," she states in her most efficient voice. "A forensic auditor is here asking for all the records of your business dealings with the Esclava salons."

That didn't take them long.

"Do they have the proper search warrant?" I ask.

"I've already had legal look them over," she replies.

Thank fuck for that. That's why I pay her the big bucks. She handles the details without asking.

"Call accounting and tell them to give them whatever they want," I say with authority.

"Yes, sir," she says briskly.

Never let them see you sweat. I had called Ros last night after I heard the news to make sure that everything was in order. Accounting will have to make copies of everything, but then they won't realize that we were ready for them. As I said, nothing left to chance.

My intercom buzzes again.

"It's Taylor," says Andrea.

"Send him in," I reply.

Taylor walks in.

"I just wanted you to know that the police are asking questions about Mrs. Lincoln," he states.

"Mrs. Lincoln has never been here," I reply. "There's nothing to know."

"Yes, I know, sir," he answers. "I just wanted to let you know, personally."

"Gotcha, Taylor," I say.

And with that he turns and leaves. That's what I like about my business. I know everything that's going on. There's nothing left to chance. I knew that the cops would come sniffing around once they discovered my connection with Esclava. The important thing is to give them everything that they ask for and hope that they are satisfied with that and go away.

I suppose at some point, Clark, who I hear is in charge of the investigation, will be coming around looking for an alibi from all of us, if only out of desperation. That's an easy one. I was home all night taking care of my pregnant wife and I have CCTV footage to prove it. Clark and his fine toothcomb may be a pain in the ass, but he has proved very thorough in the Jack Hyde mess. If anyone can find Elena's killer, it's him. And that is very comforting to me, because it is not me. I feel sorry for the poor fucker who did do it.

I hate to admit it because I know that she was a manipulative bitch who did her best to break up Ana and me, but I'm sorry that she had to go the way that she did. I won't be shedding any tears, but for many years she was a close and trusted friend. She just couldn't accept that I had moved on. She put me in a position where it was her or Ana. But there was never any choice involved. It was always Ana.

However, I do want to see this case solved sooner rather than later. I don't want the cops to have any more excuses than necessary to come digging into our lives. It is not going to take them long to discover that my mother and Elena parted ways on very bad terms a few months ago. And thanks to my sister-in-law-to-be Kate, my brother and sister know why. She also passed along Ana's nickname for her, "Bitch Troll."

And the whole story is going to take on a very salacious edge when the police do a thorough inspection of the whole house and find out that Elena has a playroom of her own down in the basement. In the community, such rooms are known as dungeons, and there's no better word to describe Elena's room. It looks like something out of a medieval nightmare. In fact it makes my playroom look like a luxury hotel room or something.

My personal opinion is that Linc is behind the murder. He's been under surveillance by Welch since I fucked his company. Even now, Welch is looking into his whereabouts and the possibility that he might have had enough money to hire a professional hit man. I'm still waiting to hear back from him about it.

Arguably, Linc got back his from Elena when he beat the shit out of her seven years ago. But his recent "run of bad luck" stems from the fact that he went after my family, and did so as revenge for the affair that I had with Elena. He knows that all of his problems really go back to her. And who knows why he would have snapped now?

**Elliot**

"Hey, babe, how was your day?" I ask as I come into the apartment.

As always, I get an enthusiastic hug and kiss from Kate. Man, she just can't get enough of me. Even at the end of the workday, she looks absolutely gorgeous. But I can also see that she's got some bee in her bonnet. No doubt it has to do with the murder of the Bitch Troll. All of the media outlets are going nuts because the police have no leads. I'm sure that she is looking for any possible leads herself.

"It's been a very busy day," she replies as she tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder. "I've been running down blind alleys all day."

She then gets her "inquiring mind" look on her face. Shit! I was afraid that this might happen.

"Don't look at me!" I say, as I put up my hands. "I don't know shit about that situation and that's the way that I plan to keep it."

"You haven't talked to anyone in your family?" she continues with her usual persistence.

"Only Dad," I answer. "He called to tell me to keep my mouth shut. Not that I know anything anyway. He just wants to make sure that no family secrets make their way into the press."

"Family secrets?"

"Mia bugged the shit out of Christian by calling him up to pump him for info about the Bitch Troll," I reply. "He called Dad."

"What did Mia say?" Kate asks curiously.

"I don't know exactly," I say. "But Dad called it stupid and irresponsible. It seems as if she wants to celebrate her death like she's won the lottery or something. Even I'm not dim enough to do that."

"That is pretty dumb," admits Kate thoughtfully. "Mia really can be immature at times."

"No kidding," I say. "But what are we talking about Mia for? Or even Elena? After a long day at work, I'm in the mood for a cold beer and my hot fiancée."

"You're in that kind of mood, whether you've had a long day at work or not," she answers slyly. "How's the house coming?"

"Just putting on the finishing touches," I say. "The furniture is ready to come in, but Christian wants to wait to move in until after the holidays. He doesn't want to put any extra stress on Ana. They're going out this weekend to pick out a Christmas tree, if you can believe it."

"I'm surprised that he just doesn't send out Taylor for it," she says.

"Oh, no," I answer with a grin. "That's not good enough for Ana. She wants to do things the old fashioned way. They're going to go to one of those Christmas tree farms outside of town and pick one out. Then _he's _going to cut it down."

"I have never pictured your brother as the lumber jack type," she says drily.

"Me neither," I reply. "But that's what Ray used to do, so all she had to do was look at him with those big blue eyes and as usual, he was a goner."

"So the tree is for Escala?"

"Ana's got a spot all picked out in the great room," I say. "It's going to have to be a pretty big tree to fill up that space. Oh, and we're all invited over on Sunday for a tree trimming party. Egg nog, Christmas carols, and the works. Whatever little Ana wants, little Ana gets."

"It must be the baby," shrugs Kate. "Ana never made this kind of a big deal over Christmas before. Of course, she used to spend from Thanksgiving to Christmas agonizing over which parent to spend it with. Her Mom would nag her to see her. Ray never nagged, but Ana never wanted to leave him alone. But how do you know about all these plans?"

"Mom called," I answer. "She and Ana talked it through. You know this year, Ray is going to come up and stay with them at Escala. Carla is going to stay in Georgia with Bob."

"Good," states Kate firmly. "Ana was very uncomfortable at Thanksgiving with both Ray and Bob there. Is your Mom still trying to get us to change our Christmas plans?"

"No, I think that she realizes that that's a lost cause," I answer.

"Did she mention anything about the Prices?" she asks.

"Not a word," I say. "And despite your innate curiosity and nose for news, I suggest that you leave that topic alone."

"You sound like Ana," she grumbles.

"Kate," I say, trying to be patient. "I know that you like to stir the pot and okay, I admit it, sometimes I like to as well. But you have to be careful not to hurt people's feelings. I mean, your family all have pretty thick skins, but there's just a lot more shit in mine. Just lay off on all that crap."

Kate is now looking pissed. But what the hell? She and her father were able to waltz away from the Price leak because it was clearly the work of an incompetent low-level reporter. But the next time it happens, things might not be so easy. And stirring up the Elena shit for the whole world to see could backfire big time. Yeah, everyone in my family couldn't stand the bitch, but no one would have shot her.

There is no way that anyone of the Greys had anything to do with that. I mean, we've got to be the most anti-gun people in the state. Look at all the money that Christian and Dad have given to various gun control initiatives. I just don't want this holiday to get fucked up by cops asking questions and digging all kinds of shit out to help fill the holiday lull in the twenty-four hour news cycle.

"Look Kate," I say more gently. "My brother Christian used to be the original Scrooge. The idea that he is actually going to enjoy this Christmas with us is something new and exciting. Besides, you know that every time that you wind him up, it only gets Ana in trouble. So for once in your life, just let it go."

She looks back at me with her stunning green eyes and sighs.

"I know," she says. "But when the truth comes out it's going to be story of the century. You can't blame me for wanting to be the one to break it."

"I know, babe," I say. "I know that you are very ambitious. But this isn't about your career or your father's business. This is about my family. With your insider information, I know that you could start looking into places that no other reporter would. But don't do it. In the long run it could cost you, cost us more."

She then begins to look thoughtful.

"My Dad always said that I'm like a bull in a china shop when I sink my teeth into a story," she replies slowly. "That's what makes me a good reporter."

"Yeah, but bulls in china shops can do a lot of damage," I answer. "A lot of collateral damage."

She grimaces, but still seems to be stubbornly hanging onto her original point of view. Finally, I get a spark of inspiration. I know that everyone considers me a big dope compared with my brother, but I have my moments.

"Look Kate," I say. "In six months, you're going to be a Grey, not a Kavanagh anymore. This is not the last time that you are going to be faced with the conflict of family versus family business. You will have to choose where your loyalties lie."

"I wasn't planning on changing my name," she answers. "Are you going to go into a full blown thermonuclear meltdown like Christian did?"

"Okay, fine, call yourself whatever you like" I reply, not giving a shit whether she changes her name to Grey or not. "Whatever you say. But does that mean that you will put aside my family's, our family's feelings for your career? Do you know what kind of atmosphere that would create at family get-togethers? Everyone will be pussy footing around you, afraid that any careless comment might end up on the evening news. Is that what you want?"

"No," she admits reluctantly.

"Good," I say in relief. "Now why don't we go out and get some dinner? Then we can come home and sweat up the sheets for a while."

She smiles up at me. Nothing seems to make her happier than a little play time in bed. It's one of those things that have us so perfectly matched. Both of us have a very high sex drive so we totally fulfill each other's needs. And we enjoy a lot of the same things. Christian is worried that she is going to run circles around me once we get married, but the chances of that happening are minimal.

I had her measure pretty early on in our relationship. No two ways about it, she's a wildcat in bed and she had that going in her favor. There was no way that she was going to be a one-night stand. However, it's her brain that has kept me interested. She's one sharp cookie and figured out quickly that if she tried to walk all over me then I would dump her. I have no use for that shit. I can basically get laid anytime with just about any girl that I want. When we reached a point where I needed to put her in her place, I casually dropped a word about my affair with Gia.

It was pretty convenient that Christian decided to use her for the refurb on the house at the same time that Kate was starting to get too bossy. After I suggestively mentioned that I was looking forward to working with Ms. Matteo again, Kate wanted to meet her. Rather than meet with me at the office, I had her come to the apartment. It was quite a scene really.

Gia was in her finest form, leaning over the plans we were discussing so that her tits were practically falling out of her blouse. She kept laying her hand on mine as I sketched and at one point even started to rub my neck. Christian hates that kind of "man eater" behavior, but I subtly encouraged her. I knew that it was getting to Kate, by the way that she started to bang things around the apartment.

After Gia left, we had a royal blow up, during which I "admitted" that we once had a fling. She began to make all sorts of comments about what a slut that she clearly was. It was hard to keep myself from laughing. If there is anyone in Seattle who has fucked more of the opposite sex than Gia, it's me. I didn't want to go there however. All that I wanted was for her to realize was that she wasn't the only fish in the ocean.

Afterwards we had some really awesome make up sex, as Kate was determined to prove to me that I had no reason to look elsewhere. But now that we are engaged, I don't want her to take me, and my easy-going attitude towards life for granted. If there's one thing that you don't mess with, it's my family. And I don't give a flying fuck whether she takes the Grey name or not. If she's my wife then she's my family. And nothing comes before that.


	3. Chapter 2

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 2**

**Clark**

The more that I learn about Elena Lincoln's personal life, the less I want to know. No sooner than I had gotten back to my desk in the station, than I got a call from the CSI unit still gong through her house.

"Clark," says the lead investigator. "You gotta get back here to see what we found in the basement. This broad was one twisted bitch. You are not going to believe this."

"Oh fucking hell, was is it?" I answer. "Is it really worth the drive back?"

"I think so, just because there is no way that you are going to believe it when I tell you. She's got this whole medieval torture set up down there," he replies. "I've never seen anything like it. No wonder that kid Isaac is so fucked up."

"What?!" I yell.

"One of my people was suspicious when she went through her clothing and found all of this black leather gear," he explains. "I mean, the lady doesn't own a single article of clothing that's not black. But between the clothes and the basement, it is pretty obvious that Mrs. Elena Lincoln was some kind of Dominatrix."

"Huh?" I say, stunned. I mean I know what he's talking about, but this crime just keeps getting more and more fucked up.

"It's my guess that little Isaac was her submissive," he says. "I mean, he was wearing a dog collar, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," I say slowly.

"Between that and the couple of slips where he called her 'mistress,'" he continues. "That is the only thing that makes sense. Especially since there's not a whole hell of a lot here that makes sense any other kind of sense. I mean, we finally got into the safe and it was loaded with cash and jewelry. Our guys are still going through it. This was definitely not a robbery. Maybe she pissed another one of these loony perverts off so much that he bumped her off."

I rub my eyes. I can't believe what I am hearing. This means that Mrs. Lincoln was living a double life. Considering how much shit she had going on in her first life, I don't even want to think about a second. Especially since her second life appears to have been in the whole shady BDSM culture. Just when I thought that I was going to be able to avoid any more contact with that moron Isaac, it turns out that he may be the key to the whole fucking thing.

"Fuck!" is all I can say to the CSI guy. "Keep looking around, there's got to be something else."

I slam down the phone and put my head in hands. I've seen weird before, but this definitely tops the list.

Now one of the forensic auditors is standing in front of my desk.

"Clark," he says. "I have some information for you on the Lincoln case."

"Of course you do," I reply, wondering what the next bucket of shit is coming my way. "Give it to me straight."

"Up until about five months ago or so, Christian Grey was a silent partner in the Esclava beauty salon chain. He gave her the start up money six years ago, after her divorce. When he sold out back in June, he basically gifted the whole thing to her. He left her sitting pretty after he pulled out, but she did go through a few rough times."

"Explain," I say curtly.

"Well, shortly after he pulled out, the clientele took a dip," he says. "Now our people have talked to some of the employees and apparently at that time Grey's mother and sister began to bad mouth the salons. She lost a good chunk of her customers, but apparently the place is the best in the city. Other ladies, not in the Greys' social circle have filled in the gap. Things have picked up since, but she did go through a bad stretch."

"Well, it sounds like the employees could have been gossiping," I reply. "People do that, you know. How do we know that their word is legit?"

"We don't," he answers bluntly. "But where there's smoke there's fire. Now we've been through all the business records that we picked up at the salons and we got everything related to the partnership from Grey's office. Everything is perfectly in order."

"You didn't have any issues with Grey?" I ask. "Getting the records? That guy is a real prick."

"Nope," he says. "But Grey's got nothing to hide. No one ever saw Mrs. Lincoln at Grey House, but then his second-in-command, some butch broad named Ros, told us that many of his smaller partners don't ever come by. A lot of the small deals like this one are handled by the accountants and lawyers, or herself. She's a character. She referred to herself as Grey's shit filter."

"Did you talk to Grey?" I ask. Shit filter, what will they think of next.

"There wasn't any need to," he shrugs. "We were in there to run down any information that we could find on the partnership. We got what we needed and left."

"Thanks," I mumble to him and he leaves. It sounds like things went down pretty damn smoothly at Grey House. Maybe just a little too smoothly.

I stare at the stuff on my desk and pull out a yellow legal pad. I decide to try and get a picture of what we have. In the middle, I write the name "Elena Lincoln." Then, around her name, I write "Isaac Burns/BDSM," "Linc/ex-husband," "Christian Grey/ex-partner," "Grey's mother and sister/ex-friends," and finally "beauty salons." This lady had a complicated life. The business end may be squeaky clean, but the BDSM angle is definitely a possibility.

I'm still waiting to hear about the autopsy. I would like to know what kind of gun was used and whether or not they can tell if she knew the shooter. One thing has become crystal clear, however. The motive was personal.

And since you can't get any more personal than an ex-spouse, that's where I'm going to start. Initial investigations have shown that Mr. Lincoln was in town the night of the murder. The statement that Isaac gave that he beat the shit out of his ex-wife when he found her cheating on him was accurate. But there are a couple of strange things about that.

The first is that there is no mention of who the man was that she was cheating with. Isaac claims that he doesn't know and since it seems that he doesn't know much, except what Mrs. Lincoln has told him, I gather that he is telling the truth. The second, is that despite her extensive injuries, injuries so bad that they required hospitalization, Mrs. Lincoln never pressed charges.

She also let her husband divorce her with a very small settlement, compared to what she could have gotten. There was no pre-nup in place and this guy was one of the biggest timber companies in the Northwest. That is until a recent hostile take over that bankrupted him. However, there is no clear record who was behind that. Although, whoever it was made a tidy profit.

My first stop tomorrow will be to interview Mr. Lincoln with regards to this case, although I can see no motive as of now. If he wanted her dead, he could have done it long ago. With any luck, he might shed some light on his ex-wife's secret life. At any rate, it's better than trying to deal with the Greys. I look back at my chart. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Lincoln doesn't seem to be related to any of the other lines of inquiry, but who knows what a good old-fashioned interview may turn. And I do like to take a personal approach in these things.

**Grace**

It's been two days since the news of Elena's murder, but the revelations on this morning's news are utterly outrageous. If I hadn't seen the pictures of her basement for myself, I would not have believed it. And it turns out that this "boyfriend" Isaac was actually a submissive, complete with dog collar!

The story is beyond sordid. Who would ever have thought that the cool and elegant Elena Lincoln was secretly leading the life of a Dominatrix? I mean she was always a very powerful personality, but a sexual pervert? I am still in the state of shock.

Since Carrick had a stern word with her, Mia has tempered her response to the murder. I can hear her pounding down the stairs and prepare myself for the onslaught. No doubt, she has just heard the recent news about Elena for herself. As she enters the room, I give her a sharp look, so she stops and takes a deep breath before she speaks.

"Have you heard the latest news about Elena?" she asks. Carrick has forbidden her from calling her the "Bitch Troll" anymore.

"Yes, I have," I reply.

"Pretty sick stuff, huh?" she says.

"Obviously," I comment. "It's amazing how little you can know about someone."

"Mom," she says, hesitantly. "Do you think that she and Christian . . ."

She can't finish her question. Naturally, I have the same question myself, but short of asking Christian point blank, I know that he won't say anything.

"I'm afraid that we won't know that unless Christian decides to tell us," I answer honestly. "And I think that the chances of that happening are very small. Christian is a very private person and he knows that it would upset us."

Mia doesn't like this response. She is a very curious person by nature and it goes without saying that she has always been a nosy little sister. But it's time for her to grow up. If she begins digging around in areas of his life where Christian doesn't want her, he is going to get very mad at her.

"Mom," she says. "Isn't there anything that we can do, you know, to help?"

I shake my head.

"It's better if we just stay out of it," I reply. "Unless we are brought into it."

"Why would we be brought into it?" she asks.

"Mia, you and I did a very good job of convincing about one third of her client base to stop patronizing her salons," I answer. "And we have cut all social ties. I have actively worked to eliminate her from many guest lists of various charity functions. Your father thinks that at some point, the police will come around looking to ask us questions."

Mia's eyes grow wide.

"Nobody would think that I could have killed her?" she asks. "Could they?"

"Mia, anyone who knows you even superficially, would ever think that you are capable of carrying out such a complex crime," I reply. However, whoever did kill her no doubt had a personal grudge. Your father wants you to be sure to call him if the police approach you for an interview. You have every right to talk to them with a lawyer present."

"Why would I need a lawyer?"

"Mia," I say patiently. "You have a very impulsive tongue and have a tendency ramble on without giving any thought to what you are saying. The purpose of a lawyer would be to rein you in."

"But won't that make the police think that I am guilty?" she asks.

"People have lawyers present when the police question them all the time," I answer. "Your father is a lawyer. I am sure that any investigator will be expecting you to have a lawyer present."

"Oh," she says thoughtfully. "Are you going to have a lawyer present if they want to talk to you?"

"Of course, I will," I respond. "I have nothing to hide, but a lawyer will know whether I am being asked a question that might give them a lead in another direction."

"Okay," she says. "I'll do things Dad's way. I know that I say stupid things sometimes, especially when I lose my temper. I'm going shopping."

"Well that's a quick change of topic," I smile.

"Yeah," she agrees. "But I need to relieve a little stress and nothing does that as well as spending a little money. Do you want to come?"

"I have to go to work," I say.

"You know," she says. "Every time that I want to do something people keep telling,e that they have to work."

"Maybe you should get a job," I suggest.

"I'm starting school in January," she says, as she makes a face.

"Ana worked and went to school at the same time for four years," I remind her gently.

"Yeah, but Ana was . . ."

I give her a meaningful look and she stops.

"I would recommend that you not compete that thought, dear," I say.

Looking at me, she has the good sense to look guilty. I can see that we really have pampered and spoiled her to the point where she no longer has much of a concept about how most of the rest of the world lives. Going to a state university should certainly give her a reality check.

**Christian**

There could not be anything worse for Elena's reputation than being outed as a Dominatrix by the police investigation. However, it's not Elena's reputation that has me concerned at the moment. Ana, who was so happy about the baby moving just a few days ago, is now terrified by the fact that we have a similar playroom in the house. The minute that the news came out about Elena, I called her, Taylor, and Gail into my study.

Of course it was Taylor who first heard the news. We were able to tell Ana and Gail very calmly, but, being the two highly intelligent women that they are, they immediately figured things out. Ana turned white as a sheet, and Gail put her arm around her comfortingly.

"What if the police come here to investigate?" Ana asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"There's no reason for the police to come here," replied Taylor with his usual authority. "At the moment, even if they tried to connect Mr. Grey to the crime, there would be no point in them doing any kind of a search. We have the CCTV footage of Mr. Grey in the great room at the very time that they believe that the murder took place. He has an iron clad alibi, not that he even knows how to shoot a gun."

"But I do," she said softly. "After all, I shot Jack."

"Mrs. Grey, please," continued Taylor. "This appears to be a perfectly executed crime, committed by a pro. And while we don't have you on camera, you were definitely inside the apartment. You had been sick from work for several days. All things considered, you could not be a suspect."

"So there's no chance that the police will want to search here?" she asked bluntly.

Taylor and I exchange a glance.

"In this particular situation," he replied. "But since we have seen the damage that has been done by Mrs. Lincoln's lifestyle, private though it may be, coming to light, you may have to consider the wisdom of keeping such a room on the premises."

I look at Taylor.

"But the playroom is nowhere near as extreme as what Elena has, had in her dungeon," I said. "She was capable of performing some very intensely painful punishments. What we have left isn't really like that."

I finish rather weakly when I see that he, Gail, and Ana are staring at me as if I am crazy.

"Mr. Grey," Taylor finally said. "To someone in the BDSM community, I suppose that what you have up there is pretty tame. But to those who know nothing about it, it would make for some very salacious headlines. Who knows what else it might dredge up?"

"Or who it might dredge up?" added Gail, suddenly finding her voice. "I don't wish to deal with any more 'Leilas' coming out of the woodwork. And it isn't just your reputation. Think of Mrs. Grey."

I realized that Ana was now staring at the floor, cheeks pink with embarrassment. And then I know what we have to do.

"Taylor, can we discreetly dismantle the playroom?" I ask.

"I don't see why not," he said. "After all, you will be moving shortly after the holidays. A lot of the more obvious things can be crated up and disposed of. Of you repaint the room and fit out the bed with new bed linens, it would be a quick start. I'm guessing that you're not too handy with a paint brush."

"I am," said Ana.

"I don't want you and the baby exposed to any paint fumes," I retorted, angry that she is even thinking of doing it herself. I created this mess. I should be the one to clean it up.

"Oh, Christian," she replied. "Not if we use latex paint. With a little creativity, I am sure that Gail and I can disguise the . . . true function of the room. Are you sure that you're not just a little sorry to be giving up the room?"

I think about it for a minute. I certainly have no use for the room such as it was when I brought "the fifteen" in under contract. However, Ana and I have shared good times and bad in there. Recently, we have even had a lot of fun. However, Taylor is right that even though what we do in private should remain that way. The possibility that the invasive and intrusive press interfering in our lives is once again placing a limitation on our freedom.

"I'm not sure that I am sorry about giving up the room," I finally admit. "I am more sorry because it places another limitation on our lives. You know, we essentially live in a fishbowl. This whole Elena mess has only served as another reminder. I have a good mind to go looking for her killer myself just to get the vultures off our backs."

"Mr. Grey," said Taylor seriously. "I do not recommend that course of action. If the police know that you have some special interest in the case, it will only create more interest on their part. It is just better to stay out of the way and let them do their job. Remember, all that they presently know is that she was a former business partner. Let's not give the many reason to think that she was anything more."

Now it's my turn to blush. There is no reason to excavate that whole mess again. Of course, he's right. Taylor is always right. That's why I hired him in the first place. I dismiss him and Gail and turn my attention to Ana, who is starting to look worried.

"Christian," she begins. "What if they . . ."

"Hush," I say softly. "They aren't tearing our lives apart. They're tearing Elena's life apart."

"But what if Clark traces her lifestyle back to you?" she asks anxiously.

"I don't think that he will be able to do that," I reply. "But even if he does, we'll figure something out. Now stop thinking about that and let's get starting thinking about Christmas. You know, I've never really enjoyed Christmas before."

My technique for calming her fears has become distraction. If I get her thinking along other lines, it will put this mess out of her head, at least for a while.

"Do you have bad memories of, you know?" she asks tentatively.

"No, not really," I answer. "The first Christmas that I have any memory of was my first Christmas with Mother and Dad. It was the first time that I had ever seen a Christmas tree in a house. Before that they were only in stores. It was the first time that I ever had a stocking and the first time that I ever got gifts from Santa. And I remember Mother playing carols on the piano. And I remember . . . "

Here I stop. This is the part that I find uncomfortable to think about. But Ana is sitting there with her blue eyes glowing as she listens to my story, all thoughts of Elena and the playroom now forgotten.

"What else do you remember?" she asks softly.

"I remember thinking about how Santa only brings toys to good little boys," I swallow hard. "I was thinking that Mother and Dad, and certainly not Santa, knew what s bad little boy I was. You see, I had never gotten anything from Santa before. So that must have been the reason."

"But didn't you figure it out later?" she asks. "After all, there is no such thing as Santa Claus and birth your mother never did buy you any presents."

"She was too busy spending all of her money on drugs," I reply bitterly. "She barely fed and clothed me. But . . ."

"But what?"

"I had two cars that I used to play with," I say. "I remember them. But I don't think that they came from Santa. I don't think that I would have forgotten that, do you?"

As usual, Ana's eyes look deeply sorrowful as they always do when I talk about that time before I was adopted. But I know that even though it makes her sad, she wants to hear it. And I have found that each time I share a little bit of that story, the burden that it weighs on my soul becomes a little lighter.

"So what do you want for Christmas?" I ask to lighten the mood.

"I can't think of anything," she replies with a smile. "I already have the best Christmas gift in the world, you. What do you want?"

"Nothing. I have the two best gifts already," I say happily. "You and you."

I place my hand on her belly when I say the second you and I swear that she is simply radiant with joy. It seems like a very long time ago when I stormed out of the house because she was pregnant. Now I wouldn't have it any other way.

**Kate**

I still don't know what to think about the latest revelation in the "who shot Elena Lincoln?" murder mystery. I mean, I had heard from Ana that she was a pretty fucked up bitch who had introduced Christian to the whole BDSM scene when he was only fifteen. She told me about how their affair had broken up her marriage. And she had told me about how they were BFFs when Christian had no other friends. But who ever thought that all that shit would hit GMA?

What used to be a sordid, little local drama has morphed into one of the biggest news stories out there. I am not surprised that the police allowed all that scandalous information out. I talked to my Dad earlier and he said that they are probably hoping that other people from the scene in Seattle will come forward with any tips that they might have.

Since the disagreement that I had with Elliot the other night, my Dad has told me to back off. He reminded me that I shouldn't let my over-zealous nature break up my engagement to the man I love. He's got his own people working on the story and apparently, the police have come up dry. They have interviewed her ex-husband, but haven't gotten much out of him that's worthwhile. He's no longer a suspect, since he was drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Jack at a bar full of witnesses at the time of the murder. And nobody thinks that he had the money to hire the hit.

I can't tell Dad, but I find it very interesting that this creep has not mentioned that it was Christian who essentially broke up the marriage. No doubt they asked him what the deal was and why he beat her up so bad. Of course, it sounds like they had a pretty shitty marriage to begin with. Christian told Ana that she was a bored trophy wife and he wouldn't let her work. It was all about his macho image of himself.

Of course, when he found out the his wife was doing the young thoroughbred that Christian must have been at age twenty-one, it must have been a huge shock. The only thing that kept Christian's name out of the divorce proceedings was probably the guy's pride. That might be why he's holding out on the cops now. He still doesn't want to be compared with one of the hottest men in Seattle.

The rest of the Greys have been totally shocked by the outing of Elena's lifestyle. I know that they are all dying to know if, once upon a time, Christian wasn't her sub. Of course, I would never tell them. Even I wouldn't have the heart to crush Grace's view of her innocent young son.

It was bad enough when she thought that he was just sexually abused. But this was physical abuse as well, and from what Ana tells me, it was some pretty heavy shit. From all the crap they found in her dungeon, I would say that her tastes had not changed much.

Ana told me that they have gone through her business records and have uncovered hat fact that Christian was her silent partner for years. Ana assured me that the business dealings of Esclava and Christian's role in the financing were all completely above board. The business was extremely well run and very profitable. It gave her very comfortable income and lifestyle, as well as helping Christian to increase his own wealth.

Christian was also smart enough to let Ros handle all the details. Elena had created the business plan and she fine-tuned it. The lawyers and accountants did the rest. Elena was a very sharp businesswoman. She knew how to spot the best talent in business and bring them in. The customers couldn't stay away.

In some ways, it was a contradiction. This woman, who was so skilled in delivering pain and agony to her subs, was an expert in providing luxurious treatment to the clientele who frequented her salons. I wonder what will happen to the salons now that she is gone.

The police have permitted them to stay open. Before she went on vacation, she had set up her managers running the places efficiently. Closing them would not only have inconvenienced the customers, it would have been very bad for all of the stylists, beauticians, etc. Very often, women will give their favorite stylists a Christmas bonus. Considering the demographic of the clientele, it could have been a huge financial loss for these men and women.

One very interesting thing that Dad has dug up is that no one has been able to produce any kind of a will for Elena. Now that doesn't mean that there isn't one locked up in some safe deposit box that they haven't discovered yet. But apparently her lawyers, who should know such things, had no idea whether or not one even exists. The mystery only deepens.

**Price**

I am very glad that the infamous Mrs. Lincoln was not in town while we were there. The stories about her dungeon, her collared submissive, and her BDSM lifestyle in general have been plastered all over the national news. The girls are interested because she was from Seattle, but then they were just fascinated by the unfortunately, explicit details of that perverted lifestyle that the news outlets just can't stop dishing up.

They initially wanted to know if Christian knew her, to which Melissa answered that Seattle was a large city and the chances of him knowing her were quite slim. Of course, I know better. I am glad that I never shared any of my suspicions about her being the anonymous benefactor with my wife. The only other person who knows, a far as I know, is Carrick.

While I am not sorry to see the old she-devil dead, this is a potentially problematic situation for my son. I know that he had business dealings with her in the past and that as the police tear her life apart, everything is going to come to light. Fortunately, I know that she was a social friend of the family, in fact, his mother's former best friend. Therefore, his willingness to help her start her salon business after her divorce should seem like a favor to an old family friend.

It is a pity that the ex-husband has such a rock solid alibi. He would have been a convenient target for the cops. I'm still surprised that he hasn't tried to draw Christian into the story by acknowledging that it was his affair with Elena that broke up the marriage. There is something definitely wrong with that and I suspect that we have not heard the last of Mr. Lincoln.

I have been a little disappointed because I have not heard a word from my son since we said goodbye on Sunday afternoon. My last words to him were that I loved him, but I would not be in contact again. I would leave it to him to initiate any further relations between us.

He thanked me for that and said that he honestly didn't know what to think of it all. But I take comfort in the fact that he does not regret meeting me. He said that getting a clearer picture of who he is and where he comes from has been very beneficial for him. He is beginning to let go of some of the anger and hate that has poisoned him throughout his life. He made no promises and I didn't ask for any.

Melissa keeps telling me that I have to give him time to sort through all of these new feelings and emotions. As much as we might want contact of some kind during the holiday season, we need to remember that it is his first Christmas with his new wife and no doubt that will be his focus. Melissa has pegged her hopes on Anastasia eventually being able to reunite us in a more permanent way. Neither of us can ever remember meeting a young person so sweet and loving and giving.

Now that this situation has arisen with Elena, I am sure that it is also taking some of his attention. I hope that it does not spoil Christian and Ana's first Christmas together. After everything that they have been though in the past few months, they deserve a joyful holiday.


	4. Chapter 3

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 3**

**Taylor**

I never thought that I would see the day when Mr. Grey would go Christmas tree shopping. Of course it goes without saying that he will always do whatever Mrs. Grey wants, so that part of it is not so surprising. And, as usual, he can never do anything the way that the rest of us poor mortals do. Thus, the plans for this excursion have been put in place with all the care of a major battle offensive.

First I had to research all of the best Christmas tree farms in the Seattle area on the Internet. Then he demanded personal reconnaissance, so yesterday I found myself visiting the best places. It was a good thing that I did, because there was only one place that had trees big enough to satisfy his requirements.

Now most people go out to these places, pick a tree, and tie it to the roof of their cars. However, due to the size of the tree, I realized that I was going to have to hire a flat bed truck. When the proprietor of the farm learned that Mr. Grey intends to cut the tree down himself, he was incredulous.

Cutting down a tree that size requires a certain amount of expertise. But knowing Grey, I made him realize that we will have to work around that. Once he finds out that his actual customer is Christian Grey, he is a lot more amenable, even if he still does think that he is nuts.

Mrs. Grey wants him to cut down a tree the way that her father used to, so that is what he is determined to do. We negotiated for a while and then came up with a plan that will give Grey the illusion that he is cutting down the tree by himself, while the owner will make sure that the job is done safely for all involved. And once he finds out that he will pay anything that he asks, he is even more willing to play along with the charade. A usual, money talks.

I am not the only one who has been carried along by the Christmas spirit. All week, Sawyer has been running around Seattle with Mrs. Grey helping her to get what she needs to decorate this tree, from lights to ropes of garland to ornaments. I know that Grey was a little worried about what she might want. He is afraid that she might want some tacky crap. But it turns out that as usual she has excellent taste. She decided that she would only use white lights and silver garlands, with a beautiful white star. The decorations are all silver, crystal, and gold.

Sawyer told me that Mrs. Grey is finally getting used to being rich. They didn't go anywhere like a Walmart or Christmas Tree Shop. No, her ornaments only came from the finest jewelry stores and high end shops. Because she is pregnant, Mr. Grey doesn't want her carrying anything around, so he felt like an idiot following her around with a basket as she made her selections the first day. But that's why we get paid the big bucks. Every once in a while you have to endure a little humiliation. I would really have liked to see a big gorilla like Luke following the petite, little Mrs. Grey around like her ladies maid or something.

However, after the first time, he convinced her to bring Gail along. He told Mr. Grey that he was concerned that he couldn't keep close enough surveillance if he was walking behind her so closely. Therefore, Gail went with them and carried the basket, while Sawyer scanned the stores, which at this time of year were pretty crowded. It was actually a pretty good idea. And Gail had lots of fun helping Mrs. Grey make her selections.

Since they got married, Mr. Grey has been very particular about the whole staff addressing his wife as Mrs. Grey. However, in the case of Gail, Mrs. Grey has told her that when Mr. Grey isn't around she wants her to call her Ana. Since Gail has spent so much time with her on days when Mrs. Grey hasn't been up to going to work and she takes care of her in so many other ways, they have really become good friends. It's good for both of them.

Mrs. Grey relies on her for many things and Gail is only too happy to help her. She was actually pretty bored before Mrs. Grey came to live with us. It's rather interesting, because Dr. Trevelyan discovered their secret one afternoon when she stopped by for a surprise visit. The next day she called up Gail and told her to keep up the good work. The most important thing for Mrs. Grey was to be happy and worry free. So that means that they are allowed to countermand Grey's orders when those orders create anxiety.

She feels that Mrs. Grey is stressed out by Mr. Grey's constant hovering. She knows that Gail would never do anything or encourage Mrs. Grey to do anything that might in any way harm the baby. Chips and diet soda every once in a while, if they keep her happy, are not a problem. She said that if Mr. Grey if found out about their little secret then she would intervene.

On Saturday morning, we take off for the Christmas tree farm. Mrs. Grey's father Mr. Steele arrived earlier to spend the holidays with us and is coming along for the ride. I have to admit that I like that man a lot. He is very down to earth and it didn't take him long to express his own opinions regarding the relationships between staff and family.

"What the hell is this about all of these young fellows calling me Mr. Steele?" he complains right off the bat.

Then, looking at Sawyer, Ryan, and myself, he says, "You boys just call me, Ray. Do you understand? I won't have any of this Mr. Steele nonsense going on in my own daughter's house. It'll make me feel like I'm working or something."

"Yes, sir," I said respectfully.

It was rather amusing to hear him because he is really a very quiet man. However, he and Mr. Grey went fishing out in Aspen back in October and he has loosened up a lot since then. Mrs. Grey wasn't interested in going because she loathes fishing, so she took the opportunity to spend some time with Miss Kavanagh.

I know that this displeased Mr. Grey, but since they weren't leaving the apartment, he reluctantly agreed. And since I know that he still doesn't like her much, he was probably just as happy that he didn't have to tolerate her presence to keep his wife happy. Sawyer reported that she did try to talk Mrs. Grey into going out, but Mrs. Grey was simply not interested. I think that she knew that Mr. Grey would have been back in a heartbeat and she didn't want to spoil their time together.

Ray was very amused when he saw the flatbed truck that we had brought along for the tree. Since he knows something about felling trees, he asked all kinds of questions about how Mr. Grey thought that he was going to bring the tree down himself. Naturally, Mr. Grey had no answer for that. It was all that Sawyer and I could do to keep from laughing, as we knew that the whole thing had been set up so that Mr. Grey would feel like he was doing the job.

Luckily, Mrs. Grey doesn't know any more about felling trees than Mr. Grey. As we pull up, she is delighted by the tree and simply thrilled that we have found such a good one. As she is thanking me for my fine work, Ray looks over at me and shakes his head. I give him a wink and I can see him nodding.

I had the opportunity to go fishing with Ray and Grey and found the old guy to be a hoot. But then again, since we're both ex-army, we speak the same language. Sometimes I think that he feels more comfortable with the security detail than he does with the Greys for that very reason.

The owner of the tree farm hands Mr. Grey the axe and he manages to cut it down so that it falls easily in the right direction. We then haul it up on the flatbed and drive it back into town. Getting it up to the apartment is a challenge, but I had already made sure that service elevator was large enough. It is a great relief when the tree is finally standing in the great room. For all the hassle it was to get it there, the expression on Mrs. Grey's face makes it all worthwhile. She is clearly delighted.

That's the thing about Mrs. Grey. She doesn't ask for much and she is very grateful for the smallest things we do for her. When she does ask for something big, it makes you really want to make it happen. After all the trouble that she went through back in the summer, I am very glad that she has had a great autumn and winter. And after years of working through Christmas with "Ebenezer" Grey, it is like a breath of fresh air.

She is insisting that I take off tomorrow to spend the whole day with Sophie. She even convinced Mr. Grey that I should have the day off for Christmas so that I could see her, but her mother and step-father are taking her to Disneyland. It is disappointing for me, but Gail has insisted that I come with her to spend the day with her sister Portland. If I can't spend the day with Sophie, I am glad that I can spend it with Gail, off duty.

**Grace**

As Carrick, Mia, and I travel up in the elevator to Christian's apartment, I can barely contain my excitement. The door opens and Sawyer greets us. Apparently, Taylor has today off so that he can spend the day with his daughter. We are then greeted by Anastasia, who is looking lovely in a white and gold maternity dress. But the real surprise is seeing Christian up on a ladder, beginning to put the lights in place, wearing a _Santa hat, _of all things.

Elliot, also wearing a hat, is holding the ladder and has a huge grin on his face, no doubt because of our reaction. Kate is over at the breakfast bar putting together snacks, while Ray and Ethan are sitting by the fire chatting. The minute that she catches sight of him, Mia squeals, runs over, and plants a big kiss on his cheek. I don't know who turns a darker red with embarrassment, Ethan or Ray. As usual, Mia's public display of affection is over the top.

However, she is quickly disappointed to see that the men are talking fishing. Now Ray Steele is a rather taciturn man, but if one thing can get him going, it is the subject of fishing. He is telling Ethan all about the fishing trip to Aspen that he and Christian took. Apparently, the weekend that the kids went to Aspen, Ethan had gone fishing with Christian. Now they are joking because both times Christian was unable to land a fish. Mia sits and tries to follow along, but she can't keep up or, luckily, get a word in edgewise.

I spent a good hour with her before we left, explaining what is and what is not appropriate behavior. And I declared that under no circumstances whatsoever, was she allowed to mention the Elena Lincoln mess. Today was going to be happy family time. I want nothing to happen that might ruin Ana and Christian's first Christmas together, no matter how curious she was.

Carrick spoke with Christian yesterday and found out that so far the police have not come anywhere near him, other than to pull the business records on the business partnership. Christian assured him that everything was completely by the book and that he had not even personally handled the deal.

But now I can see that Ana has certainly set the scene for Christmas. The fire is going in the fireplace. There are poinsettia plants in various locations. She has also set up a crèche on one of the tables. Looking around, even Carrick is impressed. In fact, she has done a better job with her Christmas decorating than I have mine.

She and Kate return from the kitchen with the snacks, mostly fruit, vegetables, cheese, and crackers. There is one basket of baked chips. Ana is looking much better than she did on Monday and I tell her so.

"Thank you for calling up Gail," she says shyly. "The next day. It made her feel better about you catching us out."

Kate rolls her eyes.

"I don't know what the big deal is," she says. "If you and she want to hang out like normal people."

"Hey, baby!"

It's Elliot's voice. They have moved the ladder as Christian is winding the lights around the tree. He is intent on making sure that each is securely clipped to a branch. However, since Elliot is holding the base, he is close enough to hear every word. Kate looks over at him and changes the subject.

"You've really picked out some incredible ornaments," she comments.

Ana giggles.

"Gail came with me to help," she replies. "Sawyer was embarrassed when he had to hold the basket as I chose. And he said that it interfered with his guard duty. We had fun."

"Somehow," I say. "I can't quite picture Sawyer walking along with a basket as you picked out what you wanted. Kate, how are the wedding plans going?"

And now Kate is off and running at the mouth about the upcoming wedding. Just hearing her going on and on about everything makes me glad that Christian only gave us a month to plan Ana's wedding. Of course, Ana was no where near as fussy as Kate about different things. Christian had told her sky's the limit, but she had no idea of how high the sky could be. Mia did, and for a while it appeared that she and Kate might come to blows over what they wanted.

However, I took matters out of their hands and helped Ana plan something as simple and elegant as she wanted. Although she may not have grown up in an affluent environment, she ha excellent taste. Looking around and my son's apartment, I can see that they are very compatible in this way. Christian has always leaned toward understated elegance as well. Lord only knows what we will have to endure when Mia gets married.

By now, Christian has gotten the lights down to the lower level of the tree and he and Elliot are both working rapidly to snap them on. After they wrap the garland around the tree, we will be ready to decorate. Mia, Kate, Ana, and I lay out the various decorations on the couch. Mia is disappointed that there is nothing colorful, but Ana simply says that she wants to tree to fit in with the decor of the apartment. But one look from me, and Mia minds her own business. I look over and see that Elliot has been watching and listening again. He gives me a wink.

We have not had this kind of tree trimming at home since the children were little. Both Carrick and I are too busy and Mia doesn't have the attention span for it. It is only thanks to Gretchen that our tree is up and decorated for the holiday season. As we work, it is fun to teasing Christian and Elliot teasing each other. Elliot has always been a goof, but a lighthearted Christian is a new thing. Ethan has jumped over to help out and now the six young people are busy, happily chatting away.

As I stand off to the side with Carrick and Ray, I can't help commenting.

"I never thought that I would see the day where a family gathering would be so normal."

Ray looks at me quizzically.

"What do you mean by normal?" he asks.

"Well," I hedge. "We don't exactly have a family dynamic where the kids all work together like this. And Christian has never been so fully engaged in family life."

"Could have fooled me," he replies. "Ever since I've met Christian he has been nothing but kind and concerned, you know, determined that I be included in all this family stuff. Now Annie and me haven't had a whole lot of that. Carla did a few things when Annie was younger, but after the divorce me and Annie stopped trying. But I know that she missed it."

"How?" asks Carrick.

"When she would come home for the holidays, she would talk about all the great stuff that Kate and her family were doing," he replies. "In fact, Kate invited her home for Christmas every year. But Annie would never go. Last year, Kate even went so far as to call me up and ask if Annie could come. Annie was real mad about that."

"I can imagine that she was," says Carrick dryly.

"Well, Annie didn't want to leave me alone," he explains. "I mean, if she really wanted to go to Kate's, I wouldn't have stopped her, but it wouldn't have been much of a holiday for me either. That's why I jumped at the chance to come up here, even if its a little to stuffy for my taste."

"Stuffy?" I ask curiously.

"Maybe that's not the right word," he says. "But look around. It feels like I'm living in some kind of a museum or something."

Glancing around, I have to agree with him.

"I'm looking forward to them moving into that new house," he continues. "Now that's going to be a real home. Of course the kids will take care of giving it that lived in look, if you know what I mean. And Annie has set aside a bedroom for me. Even asked me about what I wanted there."

"She told me about that," I say. "She was surprised that you let her do it for you."

"Well," he replies. "A year ago, I wouldn't have let her. But you know, nearly coming face to face with St. Peter will give you a new perspective. I'm not going to live forever and I want to spend more time with my daughter and grandkids. I'm not going to let a little bit of pride get in my way. And I know that Annie feels the same way. You know, for years it felt like we were the only family each other got."

"Well," I say. "Now you have an even bigger family."

Neither of us mentions Carla. It's not that she doesn't matter, in fact I know that she means a great deal to Ana. Although Carla has often been absent in her life, she is still her mother. And that is a bond that is nearly impossible to break.

**Clark**

Linc Lincoln is quite an operator. In fact, if there is anyone who can equal his ex-wife in the sleaze department, I would say that it is definitely him. It would seem that as much as she likes her "men" young, that he likes his "women" young. Just like her, he seems to be treading on just this side of legal consent.

When interviewing him about his ex-wife, he had very little to say about her that was good. He gave me the impression that she was a gold-digging whore who was just looking for the easiest way into the high society of Seattle. His money was her ticket in, as well as her friendship with Grace Grey. He was only to happy to aid and abet her, as her social contacts turned into some very lucrative business contacts for him.

He gave her lots of money to spend on clothing, jewelry, and any beauty treatments that he wanted. He referred to it as the cost of doing business and was sorry that there were no tax write-offs involved. He also funded all of her charitable causes, and was pleased because these were good tax write-offs. He was one of those guys who made me want to take a shower after I interviewed him.

While it was obviously a loveless marriage, it had gone on for quite a number of years before the divorce happened. When I asked him about his ex-wife's dungeon, he laughed and said that if she had been into that kinky shit when she was married to him they might still be married. And, no, he said emphatically, she never had any kind of room like that in their old house.

As to the reason for the divorce, he simply shrugged and said that they were no longer compatible. Considering what the marriage had been based on to begin with, it seemed to me that they were perfectly compatible, two users doing a hell of a job using each other.

Naturally, I asked him about Isaac's accusation that he had beat the shit out of her before he divorced her. He said that Isaac must have been mistaken. Mrs. Lincoln had been mugged and the mugger had never been found. That was the story that she gave at the ER when she was brought in, but there were conflicting accounts. He had called the EMTs when he said that he had found her at home. However, it was never clarified whether the attack had occurred at home or elsewhere.

The domestic violence unit had been called in, but they had come up empty. And here was no sexual attack involved. All in all, the whole thing reeks of cover up, but since it's a seven-year-old crime there's not much that can be done now. She's not here to recant her story so even though my gut tells me that Lincoln was the perp there's no proving it.

I asked him about the fact that is wife had lent a hundred grand to Grey to start up his company. He was pretty pissed about that, but since Grey paid back every dime, there wasn't much that he could do about it. I have my suspicions about their relationship however. The minute that I mentioned Grey's name there was a flash of anger in his eyes that he very quickly got under control. Whatever shit has gone down between the two of them, there is certainly no love lost.

After talking with Lincoln, my next stop is going to be Christian Grey. There is something about that triangle of Grey-Lincoln-Lincoln that smells pretty bad. I can tell when someone is lying and when Lincoln says that he has nothing against Grey, the whole thing does not ring true. But first I want to go back to Isaac, much as I dread it. The only thing that I hope is that he is in better shape than the first time I spoke with him.

Checking out the address that he gave me the first time he spoke to me, I can see that it is a dump in one of the worst sections of Seattle. I guess if he was her little boy toy, she didn't treat him very well. But then again, I know shit about how these things work.

Young Isaac is certainly more lucid than he was during our first conversation. He's lost the dog collar and is wearing more normal clothes. Now that she's been outed, he seems a lot more comfortable talking, as if he had been really holding back before. It turns out that she was one hell of a "mistress."

"How did you meet Mrs. Lincoln?" I ask again.

"I met her in a local club," he replies. "She came in looking for a new submissive. Rumor had it that she was into some pretty extreme punishments. There was nothing that she wouldn't do. But she also had the reputation of being a great fuck and had a good incentive program."

"Incentive program?" I ask, not really wanting the details.

"Well, yeah," he says, as if its common knowledge or something. "That's the way it works. Your Domme sets up the the rules and if you break them you get punished. If you please your Domme then you get pleasure."

"Pleasure?" I ask, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Orgasms," he says with a smirk. "It's the other side of letting your mistress beat the shit out of you. And I will tell you, Mistress knows how to give a really great orgasm. In fact . . ."

"That's enough," I interrupt. "I get the idea. I don't need any examples."

He actually looks disappointed.

"What does she get out of it?" I ask.

"She gets the same thing, really amazing orgasms," he replies. "She knows how to fuck like you wouldn't believe, all for her pleasure. One of her favorite punishments was to withhold orgasm. She really got off on that. It's worse than the beatings really. You know?"

"No, I wouldn't know, as a matter of fact," I say. "But weren't you ever tempted to get her arrested for assault and battery?"

Now he looks at me like I'm crazy.

"Why would I do that?" he asks.

"Are you telling me that you enjoy getting beaten with whips, canes and all that other shit she had in her basement?" I ask.

"Of course," he replies. "Do you know what kind of an honor it is to be selected a the submissive of such a skilled Domme as my mistress?"

"That's not how I would ever have thought to view it," I reply wryly. "Just out of curiosity, do you miss her?"

"Yes," he says immediately. "I know that I will have to find another Domme soon, but she will never be as good as Mistress."

I can't help myself. I have to ask the question.

"Why do you _have _to find another Domme?"

Once again, he looks at me as if he is talking to an idiot.

"I need a Domme so that I have someone to control me," he explains. "Right now I feel lost. I have no one to tell me what to do."

As I walk away from his rat hole apartment, I feel like I am the one who is lost. I really hope that I don't have to delve any more deeply into this crazy alternate lifestyle. I also have a feeling that I may not have a choice. Even though Isaac clearly had nothing to do with the murder, he misses her shit for crying out loud, this world is too dark not to have something to do with it.

Elena Lincoln may have been some highly skilled Dominatrix, but she was still dabbling in a very dangerous world. Anyone who would buy into such craziness would have to be a little crazy themselves. I mean, just because all of this shit is legal between consenting adults, doesn't make it normal. And even though they seem to operate under all sorts of rules and contracts doesn't mean someone might go off the deep end.

Whatever happened to Elena Lincoln was some form of revenge. When I get back to the office, I go to my desk and discover that the forensic auditors have been through every scrap of paper that they could find about Elena Lincoln. She did not leave a last will and testament. Shit! I need to add a new category to my chart. And then, I need to finally go talk to Christian Grey.

**Christian**

Well, Clark has finally gotten around to interviewing me. I knew that it would come sooner or later. Welch has been working every angle of the story that he can think of, but he's come up empty too. And Welch is a hell of a lot better investigator than Clark and his Keystone cop buddies.

The first thing that he asks is if I want a lawyer present.

"No, I have nothing to hide," I reply coolly. "What do you want to know?"

"How long did you know Mrs. Lincoln?" he asks.

I squint my eyes.

"I'm really not sure," I reply. "I have known her since I was a kid. She seemed to be my Mom's friend forever."

"So then, you met her because she was a friend of your mother?" he asks.

"Yes," I say curtly.

I know exactly how to manage this kind of interrogation. Never give them more information than they ask for. Whatever he wants, he's going to have to work for. I have to be very careful about what I say. I don't want to tell an outright lie, because the truth can have a nasty way of showing up unexpectedly. On the other hand, I don't need to add anything to the scandalous nature of the story.

"When you dropped out of Harvard, she lent you the money to start up your own company?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply.

This is good. He has skipped through the messy parts, those teen years when what we were doing was clearly illegal on her part. Now that she's been outed, I have no desire to be tied to that lifestyle.

"Why would she do that?"

I shrug.

"I guess that she believed in me when no one else did," I say. "I didn't ask her for the money actually, I asked my Dad. He was pretty pissed that I had dropped out and said no. My Mom mentioned it to Mrs. Lincoln and she offered to lend me the money."

"Just like that?" he asks skeptically.

"Just like that," I confirm.

It's the truth. I didn't ask her for the money, she offered it to me.

"Did you pay her back?" he then asks.

"Of course, I did," I say, controlling my urge to roll my eyes. "I certainly had the resources to."

"Yes, of course," he says. "Then you invested in her salon business a year later."

Once again, I feel like rolling my eyes. I know that he knows all of this shit. He knows that I know that he knows it. Why do we have to rehash it?

"Yes, I did," I reply. "I was a silent partner."

"Silent?" he questions.

"Look, I was trying to help out an old friend who had helped me out before," I explain patiently. "It was the least I could do?"

"What do you mean by that?" he pounces, but I'm ready for him.

"If she hadn't lent me the hundred grand earlier, then I wouldn't have been in a position to finance the salon scheme," I continue.

"So you just did it as a quid pro quo?"

"Not entirely," I answer smoothly. "Just like anyone else who was looking for financing from me for a business scheme, she had to present a business plan. My second in command Ros handled the matter."

"Why was that?" he asks.

"Ros handles all deals of that nature," I say briskly. "That is her specialty. I am a businessman, not a philanthropist when it comes to start up companies. If the proposal was no good, it would have been rejected."

"Even though she was a good friend who had helped you out previously?" he persisted.

"Detective Clark," I reply. "Earlier this year, my sister came to me asking for funding for a catering company that she wanted to start up. She had no business plan and no idea of how to run such a company. She had assumed that because she had been to a cooking school in Paris and worked under a master chef that she was qualified to run a business. Needless to say, I turned her down. As I said, I am not particularly sentimental when it comes to financing start ups. I am interested in primarily in ROI."

"And the ROI on the Esclava salons has been good?" he asks.

"Very," I reply briefly, knowing that the big question is coming up.

"So why did you decide to part ways?" he asks.

I have considered this question already. The only person who knows the true answer is Ana. That was the advantage to being a silent partner. When I wanted to get out of the business I had to come up with a justification for the lawyers who handled things, being that I had no intention of telling them that it was because our previous affair had come to light.

"With the direction of the economy, I decided that I wanted to get out before the business began to lose money, being that it dealt with luxury and not necessity," I reply.

"Even though Mrs. Lincoln had helped you in the past," he comments.

"It's the way I do business," I say, somewhat coldly. "I have a problem with dead weight and I prefer to get out before I accrue any losses. I decided that it was time to cut and run."

"I see," he frowns. "Do you think that you made the right decision?"

"Only time will tell," I reply.

He looks at me closely, as if he is trying to read my expression. However, he has no reason to ask any further questions. I suspect that, being the tenacious investigator that he is, he was just tying up loose ends. From everything that I have heard, they are getting desperate. With a sigh, he stands and extends his hand.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Grey."

"Don't mention it," I say politely, and let him see himself out.

After he is gone, I take a deep breath and release it. It is obvious that he has no idea of the real relationship between Elena and myself. I know that he has spoken to Linc, who is definitely not eager to share that information either. He has a rock solid alibi and by the time I was done screwing over Lincoln Timber, he practically qualified for food stamps. He had nothing to contract a hit on Elena with and no motive.

I'm actually glad that I have gotten that bit of unpleasantness out of the way. Ana has been worried that I would be questioned and now she doesn't have to worry about it. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and we will be able to have a wonderful holiday together.


	5. Chapter 4

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 4**

**Flynn**

Sometimes it feels as though my life would be far simpler if my only patient were Christian Grey. Every time he walks into my office it is a new adventure. I am grateful that the Christmas holiday has arrived and he is actually promising to leave me alone for both the day itself and Boxing Day.

I had been rather concerned about how he was going to manage this year's holiday. This season has a tendency to be very stressful for anyone with any kind of psychological issues and it goes without saying that Christian has a raft full. There have also been many stressful changes over the past six months in his life between marriage, impending fatherhood, and the discovery of his biological father.

And this does not include the sabotage of helicopter (which almost killed him), an attempt to burn down his office building, a car chase, and lastly, the kidnapping of his sister and near death experience of his pregnant wife. However, and this is entirely due to Ana I'm sure, he is navigating these rough seas far better than expected.

We have talked it through and he has figured out that his initial angry reactions to Ana's pregnancy and the revelation that his father was actually _not_ the low life he was expecting, were due to shock and fear. Part of this is that the only previous biological connection that he had to anyone was his birth mother. His only associations with a biological connection to someone were pain, neglect, and abandonment.

In the case of the pregnancy, he immediately assumed that his child would reject him. He was afraid that Ana would put him second and that her world would no longer revolve around him. It took him a while to admit that it had been unrealistic and selfish of him to expect that he would remain the center of her world after the honeymoon phase was over anyway. He certainly has a lot of things besides her to keep up with in his life. It wasn't really fair to expect her to sit around waiting for him when he was busy.

No sooner had he come to terms with that, than Chris Price walked into his life, "completely uninvited," to quote him. I am sorry that I have not yet had the chance to meet Price, as he seems to be an exceptionally decent man and very patient with his recalcitrant and hostile son. Christian has never liked surprises and he was extremely surprised to find out that his father was a good and kind man. For a while, I almost think that he would have preferred if he had been some scum of the earth who was looking to cash in somehow on his wealthy son.

Instead, he is a rich and powerful man in his own right. The paradigm of his birth origins has shifted from sleazy parents, to very normal teenagers caught up in a situation that has been happening for ages. Ella made a very poor choice, but that was not Chris's fault. Christian's feelings about his birth mother have always been complex. Now, I get the sense that he may even be feeling guilty that _he _was the one who ruined _her _life. And guilt is never a foundation for love.

Christian however is finding it harder and harder to remain angry with her. He knows that when Ana became pregnant, she never seriously thought of ending it and certainly would never have given the child away. Her love for the child is an extension of the love she has for him. This is not only her child; it is his as well. it adds to the poignancy of his mother's situation. And once he had cooled down, he would never had considered abandoning her and the child. Thus, he reluctantly understands where Price is coming from.

This is enormous progress for Christian. It is the first time that he has ever truly demonstrated empathy for another. He is finally accepting that the true nature of love is more complex than he had thought. Of course, for years Elena Lincoln had convinced him that love is for fools and the best that he could expect from women was submission to his sexual predilections. To be perfectly honest, I am very glad that she is gone.

Even though Christian believed that they had gone through a form of closure back in September, I am not convinced that she had truly given him up. There was something very odd about Elena's relationship to him. Christian has never satisfactorily explained to me why their relationship came to an end when her husband found out.

Beyond that, Christian continued leading the BDSM lifestyle, although his role changed from submissive to dominant. In my own research into the subject, I have discovered that this is highly unusual. One is either submissive or dominant by nature not nurture. At some point, there was an evolution in Christian's mindset. But even his own relationships with his contracted subs were fairly unique.

While he enjoyed the extreme pain that he inflicted in his punishments, his hard limits included many things that were on the extreme end of humiliation. He was exceptionally generous with his subs, more so than the typical Dom, _and _he was hyper-vigilant with regard to their safety. His physical treatment was never entirely callous. He was more concerned with maintaining emotional distance.

The episode with Leila gave me an intimate view into what these contractual sub relationships were like. His care for her was exceptionally compassionate and humane. He excused his kindly treatment of her by saying that he did not want his own private life exposed, however she certainly deserved to be turned over to the authorities. And her psychotic break was so severe that they wouldn't have been able to make much sense of anything that she said anyway.

Anastasia was deeply wounded by what she viewed as his deep affection for Leila and mistook his sensitivity to her needs for a desire to return to that life. What she failed to see was the symbiotic relationship that existed between Christian's care of her and his care of Leila. He knew that he was in love with Ana and the only way that he could fulfill that love was by opening his heart to her. This sensitivity to human vulnerability was what led to his compassionate response.

He recognized that Ana had healed him in two many ways. He, in turn, wanted to heal Leila, if only to get her out of his life for good. He was also driven by his obsession with Ana's safety. Deep down he knew that the only way to keep Ana safe from Leila, once and for all, was to deal with Leila's obsession.

Has Leila finally overcome her obsession with him? It is difficult to tell. Certainly visiting Ana at work was a ploy to see Christian again. While she claimed to want to make sure that Christian was happy, I believe that what she was actually trying to determine is whether he was satisfied with his wife. She may have been looking for a subtle indication that all was not well between them, thus giving _her _hope that she might be able to win him back.

In speaking with her since, I have discovered that she had even deluded herself into believing that his extraordinary care for her during and since her psychotic episode was due to the fact that he might actually love her. In light of this, I am glad that Christian insisted that she stay on her side of the continent. That should have told her unequivocally that he wanted nothing more to do with her and the only way that she could repay him for his kindness was to stay out of his life for good.

Her doctors told me that she accepted the news of Anastasia's pregnancy very well. In fact they had a difficult time convincing her not to send some kind of congratulatory gift or note. That was not a good sign. It is obvious that she is still looking for attention from him, although now it is positive attention.

As I pack up my briefcase this Christmas Eve to return home to my wife and sons for the next two days, I am looking forward to uninterrupted time with them. Rhian is a vey patient wife, but the boys are much less so. I am hopeful that when Christian has a son of his own to dote on that he will be much more considerate of mine.

**Clark**

So, Mrs. Lincoln left no will. This creates a very interesting plot twist. It means that whoever is her closest living relative now inherits Esclava and all the rest of her money. And that woman is worth a lot of lucre. Of course it means that someone with a motive would have had to have known first that she had no will and second, he or she was the first in line for the goodies.

This immediately eliminates all of the Greys, thank goodness. Despite the fact that he is not my favorite person, I found interviewing Christian Grey to be very uncomfortable. We both knew that he had no hand in the crime and no motive. I had not been looking forward to interviewing any of the other Greys. Knowing what I know now, I really can't see any of them committing or contracting the murder.

This does leave me with a rather large problem. As part of our investigation, we had already been looking for Mrs. Lincoln's family without success. It would seem that he just appeared out of nowhere when she married her husband. Her marriage license lists her maiden name as Martin, which is a fairly common name. It may even be an Anglicized version of Martinez, considering that her full name is Elena Maria. That makes it even more common. Her birth certificate lists her as born in LA, her parents are named Catherine and Joseph.

And that is where the trail goes cold. There are a couple of pages of Joseph Martins in the phone book, if they even live there anymore. Lincoln knows nothing about her family. He said that he never met them and she never talked about them. I find this very odd indeed. How many people marry without exchanging any stories at all of their past lives. And Lincoln was not the least bit curious.

But how do you trace someone who seems to have no past? There are no indications of where she may have gone to school. In addition to no relatives, I have been able to find no friends other than those she made when she came to Seattle, and many of them are no longer friends. Luckily, her lawyers have hired private investigators to search for any possible family that might be out there.

Of course, there will no doubt be a flood of potential "relatives" once the word gets out of her net worth. Her lawyers are prepared for that. Anyone who stakes a claim on her fortune will have to submit to a DNA test first. Once they find that out, the phonies should be weeded out pretty quickly.

We are withholding the news about the absence of a will until after Christmas. None of us want to deal with the deluge of interest just as it has died down. I wonder how many fake wills are going to surface? That, at least, is one part of this mess that I don't have to worry about.

My present dilemma stems from the fact that I have a number of snitches out in the underworld of Seattle who have come up dry on the issue of a contract killing. Generally speaking, it is very hard for something like that to go down with there being some noise about it. But there has been nothing.

There are several things that might have popped up. One would be the word going out that someone was looking for someone to "take care of a problem." But there was nothing like that. Then, there might be a likely suspect who was suddenly flashing around a lot of cash. No, nothing along those lines either.

Finally, we thought that it might have been some out-of-towner who was brought in to handle it. But even that angle turned up nothing. If someone had come in for a fly by night, there would have been a lot of griping about outsiders moving in on the locals' turf. Once again, I feel like I am back to square root one.

My last resort is that she royally pissed someone off in the BDSM scene, but that is one tough area to crack. They tend to handle all of their own shit in house. They know better than to do anything illegal because the last thing that they want is for other people to come nosing around their lifestyle.

And my operatives have been completely unable to turn any of them, no matter how much money they offer. This only leads me to believe that I have hit another blind alley. Despite taking a break from the investigation, there is no way that I am going to enjoy any of the holiday spirit.

I'm not much into any kind of party scene anyway, but at the moment I am totally pissed off. I refuse to believe that someone out there has committed the perfect crime. Someone has to have made a mistake somewhere along the line. All that I can hope is that he trips up soon.

I also have to deal with all the publicity crap. Nothing sucks more than the when the victim goes up on trial in the press. One of the radio stations took a poll and the voting came out two to one that Mrs. Lincoln got what she deserved. But what did she deserve? She was living a totally legal, if alternative, lifestyle. And she was hugely successful in the beauty business. Okay, even if you're jealous of that, why would she deserve to die?

It's kind of pathetic really. No one came forward to organize any kind of funeral or memorial service. In the end, it was her lawyers who dealt with the cremation and disposal of the ashes. I guess one of the advantages to dying wealthy is that there is some dignity in the end. Most unclaimed bodies in the morgue end up in the potter's field.

So, okay, I have no regrets that the bitch is gone, but I don't want this to turn into a cold case because of lack of evidence. Somewhere out there is a cold-blooded, violent killer. This person might surface again and kill someone else. Mrs. Lincoln aside, the community is in danger as long as he is on the loose. And it is my duty to get him off the street.

**Price**

I was very pleased to receive a phone call from my son on Christmas Day. It was a very brief call, but the contact has given me hope, that in time, we will be able to work out some kind of relationship. The conversation was not as awkward as I had feared it would be. I suppose that that is because we were both on speakerphone and our wives were included. Melissa and Ana really do have a wonderful rapport.

And once the girls learned whom we were talking to, they had to have their say.

"Merry Christmas, Ana and Christian," said Sarah. "What are you doing today?"

"We're going to my parents' house to celebrate the day," answered Christian.

Uncomfortable silence ensued.

"My Dad is here visiting from Montesano," said Ana to fill in the gap.

"Where is Montesano?" asked Sarah, at the same time as Emily said, "Can you put a picture of him on Instagram?"

"One question at a time," laughed Ana. "Montesano is south of here on the coast. And as soon as our call is over, I will take a picture and post it."

"Cool," said Emily.

"So what are you all doing for Christmas?" asked Christian.

"Late today we are flying to our house in Tahoe on Daddy's plane," said Katie. "Do you have a plane, Christian?"

"I have a plane and a helicopter," answered Christian. "And I can fly the helicopter myself."

"Cool," said Sarah. "Can you fly us sometime? You know, like when you take us on your boat?"

Another brief silence as I realize that Christian forgot about that earlier offer.

But Melissa just laughed. "You know kids, they have memories like elephants."

"No, I didn't know that," answered Christian. "I guess forewarned is forearmed.

"How is the baby doing, Ana?" asked Melissa.

"Wonderful!" she replied. "I felt him move the other day."

"Why do you always call him, him?" asked Katie.

"Because, he's a boy dummy," said Emily, before Ana could answer. "Just like we already knew that he had a jet. Remember? We read it on Wikipedia."

"It's not like I memorized Wikipedia like you did," shot back Katie.

"Cool it, girls!" I interrupted before an argument could break out. "Why don't you say goodbye so that the grown ups can talk."

With a chorus of goodbyes, the girls left the room.

"Sorry about that," I apologized. "I'm afraid that everything that happens in this house is done by committee."

"That's no problem," said Ana. "Since I grew up as an only child, I enjoy all of the family cacophony."

"I didn't know you had a house in Tahoe," said Christian. "I guess that's because I didn't read your Wikipedia page. We have a house in Aspen."

"We went to Aspen when we were first married," I said. "But after we bought the house in Tahoe, we didn't feel the need to go. I don't think that the skiing is much different."

"So the girls have never been?" asked Christian.

"No," said Melissa. "They all like to ski, but I've never cared for it much. I'm just as happy to go to our own place so they can ski. It's much nicer than a hotel."

There is more silence on the other end, although I get the impression that Ana and Christian are whispering in the background. Finally, Christian comes back on the line.

"We are planning on going out to Aspen in a couple weeks for a weekend," he said. "Would you like to join us? Ana can't really ski being pregnant and all, and Melissa could keep her company while you and I take the girls out to the slopes."

Melissa and I look at each other in surprise.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, well," he replied. "It would kind of be easier on my family if we spent some time together away from Seattle. They are still getting used to the idea that you, well, that you exist."

"Don't know what to say, Christian," I replied. "I'm a little stunned by your invitation. I hope that you don't feel pressured into making it."

"No, not at all," he said. "If I didn't want to ask you, then I wouldn't have. That's the kind of guy that I am."

"Even though I want to have company because Christian isn't going to let me go skiing," added Ana.

"Do you ski?" asked Melissa.

"No."

"Then, I can tell you from experience, now is not the time to learn," advised Melissa. "As I am sure that you have already figured out, your center of gravity is no longer where it used to be. Skiing required a great deal of balance."

"Thank you, Melissa," stated Christian immediately. "I knew that there was a reason that I wanted you along."

"Anytime," she chuckled.

"Well," I said, not wanting to push my luck any farther and wanting the call to end on a cheerful note. "We have to get going."

"Merry Christmas," answered Christian. "My PA Andrea will be in touch with the details."

"PA?" asked Melissa after we had hung up.

I laughed.

"From what I have heard, that poor woman is on call 24/7 to handle all his needs," I answered.

I was deeply touched by the fact that not only did my son reach out to call me on the holiday, but that he also extended the invitation to spend a weekend with them in Aspen. It was the best Christmas present that he could have possibly given me. I love my son and I am hoping that one day he will develop more than a fondness for me. I think of Ella and I regret that she will never know what a wonderful man he has grown into.

One thing that I was glad of was that none of the girls had thought to bring up the Elena Lincoln murder. However their interest in the topic has waned since there have been no new disclosures in the case for a while. Apparently, the police are having a very difficult time tracking the killer and no one is all that bothered that he had not been found. I can honestly say that I am not the least bit bothered myself.

**Carrick**

Grace was very pleased with how Christmas Day worked out, even if it was a small gathering and Mia spent most of the day sulking. My daughter is very stubborn and very much used to getting her own way. Now it would seem that she is only happy, sweet, and enthusiastic when things are going her way. And presently, her relationship with Ethan Kavanagh is not going her way. I correct myself. It is going her way, only not as quickly as she would like.

I am very glad that the young man is taking things slowly. As of yet, he still has his schooling to finish. In fact, he is only starting his master's program. Mia will be going to school in January to work on some kind of business degree. This, I have to see.

Right after lunch, Christian and Ana came over with Ray. Grace immediately began to fall all over Ana and the baby plans, while the three of us men began to talk fishing and sports, which are about the only two topics that you can talk about with Ray in any kind of depth. Christian is always determined to make sure that Ray doesn't feel left out, which is very nice of him.

Once Mia realized that she was not going to be the center of attention, nor was she really interested in either of the conversations, she went stomping upstairs. Naturally, this concerned Ana more than the rest of us. But I refused to let Mia either take control of the day or ruin it for everyone else.

"Maybe I should go up and speak with her," said Ana.

"If you do that," replied Grace. "I can guarantee that you are going to get an earful about Ethan and how unfair it is that _she _wasn't invited to Christmas at the Kavanaghs."

"Oh," said Ana. "She is still bothered by that?"

"I'm afraid that she has higher expectations of what her relationship with Ethan is than what the reality is," I replied.

"Ethan hasn't been leading her on, has he?" asked Christian.

"Not a bit," answered Grace firmly. "Mia spends a lot of time analyzing everything that he says looking for some kind of hidden meaning. She just can't accept the fact that he likes her and enjoys spending time with her, but he is just not ready to settle down yet."

"My Mom told me last summer, right after she met Christian that men are very literal creatures and you need to take them at their word," Ana laughed. "For once she knew what she was talking about."

Ray rolled his eyes and didn't say anything.

"Have you told her that?" I asked.

"Only about a dozen times," said Grace, shaking her head. "But you know Mia. She only hears what she wants to hear. But enough about her. Are you excited about moving into the house next week?"

And of course they were. Ray is very touched that he will have his own room for when he visits. Ana and Grace were off talking about the various rooms and how she intended to decorate them. Christian looked on indulgently as she spoke. It's been a miraculous change in him over the last year.

I think back to last Christmas. That was really not that great of a holiday. Mia was in Paris, so it was just us and the boys. Christian was brooding over something, while Elliot goofed around, entertaining himself by trying to get a rise out of him. Grace had been frustrated because neither was showing an inclination towards settling down.

Elliot left early because he had a date, and Christian went shortly after. It was the first time that we realized that without Mia around to take control of the conversation, there wasn't a whole lot to talk about. We discussed sports, politics, and how their jobs were going, but exhausted those topics pretty quickly. And of course talking about girls was not exactly a safe topic.

Neither Elliot nor Christian had any desire to go there. Elliot was in his "skirt chasing" phase, as we used to say and we were still wondering if Christian was gay. Both areas were potential minefields. But tonight was extremely pleasant. We talked over coffee and tea until well past ten when Ray announced that he needed his beauty sleep. Ana was also drooping, so they made a hasty departure.

"So were you pleased by the day?" I asked Grace as I took her into my arms once they had left.

"Very much," she replied. "I always enjoy spending time with Ana and I hate to admit it, but when Mia and Kate are around, she tends to let them control the conversation."

"Yes," I said. "That is a quality that she shares with Ray. However, I discovered that when Christian and I were chatting with him, if you ask him a direct question, particularly if you are looking for an opinion on certain topics, you have no trouble getting him to join in."

Grace then sighed.

"What are we going to do about Mia?" she asked, almost rhetorically. "I hate to see her so unhappy."

"She's doing it to herself," I replied. "If she doesn't cut it out, she stands a very good chance of losing that boy. I have to admit that I would be sorry if she did. He would be the best thing for her. He's got a real solid head on his shoulders."

"That he does," said Grace. "But Mia has also been in a funny mood since Chris Price showed up. I think that she is still trying to figure that out."

"Well, that's another thing that she can't control," I commented. "Christian didn't mention him at all and I didn't ask. But whatever relationship they have or don't have is between them. Christian is a full-grown man and certainly able to make that choice for himself."

"Then, you're bothered by the fact that Christian's biological father has surfaced?" asked Grace.

"In the beginning it was hard," I admitted. "But I have seen for myself that he isn't going to come between us. I can also see that he is genuinely grateful that we have taken such good care of Christian over the years, even though it wasn't easy. And Christian doesn't view it as an either/or situation anyway. It is enormous progress on his part that he is opening up his family and friendship circles."

"Yes, I suppose that it is," replied Grace thoughtfully.

"In the long run, I think that it's going to be harder for Chris," I said. "I know that he is just dying for Christian to open his heart to him as a son to a father, but even he admits that that is expecting too much. He loves Christian as his son, but he knows that Christian will never reciprocate to the same degree."

"I hadn't realized that you had spoken with him in such depth about it," she said.

"Oh, yeah," I replied casually. "We talked about it."

She looked at me curiously, but let it go at that. She knows that when I don't want to talk about something that I can be just as taciturn as Ray. Maybe it's a guy thing. But I was certainly telling her the truth when I told her that I was not entirely sorry that Chris had come into our lives.

**Taylor**

It was a great relief to have some time off with Gail, away from Christian Grey and his complicated life. And Gail is a gem of a woman, a true find. Grey hired her a couple of months after he hired me. He had wanted to put the security piece in place first, so that I would be there to vet any further hires. Since the plan was that the housekeeper be a live in, it was doubly important that she be trustworthy.

At first, I thought that he was crazy. His requirements included not just that she be highly efficient and very discreet. He wanted a well-groomed, blonde woman who was no younger than forty. It made sifting through the original resumes very difficult, as I couldn't exactly specify those physical characteristics. Finally, I gave up and just brought the best qualified women in for initial interviews.

From the first, Gail Jones stood out. She met the physical requirements of blonde and well-groomed. She was forty-one years old, but looked younger. She was very attractive compared with some of the more matronly candidates who came forward. She was also a recent widow. I asked her to explain why she was looking for this kind of position, which seemed odd for someone like her and she explained that she had married young and never finished college.

Her husband had been a Navy Seal and she had spent the last twenty years as a Navy wife traveling the globe wherever he was stationed. Thus she had never been in any one place long enough to really develop a career. She was actually interviewing in the Washington State/Oregon area because she had a sister who lived Portland.

For the moment, she was looking for the kind of job that would give her time to think about her future and where she might go. I agreed that she would probably not have much to do here since she would just be looking after Mr. Grey and myself during the week. My experience to date with Mr. Grey was that he was not particularly "high maintenance" in the cooking and housekeeping area.

I suppose that I felt an immediate rapport with her because her husband had been in the armed services. I sensed that she would understand the need to keep Mr. Grey's private life private. She had no problems about signing a non-disclosure agreement before her interview with him. Her cool, unflappable manner also indicated that she would not be too shocked by Grey's playroom.

All of my assumptions were on target. Grey was pleased with her and she was unbothered by his unconventional lifestyle. She did as he said and never questioned anything. It didn't take long for him to begin relying on her. Like any good domestic, she familiarized herself with his habits and manners, likes and dislikes, and learned to anticipate his needs. And she never once asked any questions about what happened in the playroom or on the weekends when she had time off.

Since we were sharing a living space upstairs, it was only natural that a friendship evolved between us. She was still mourning for her husband and would frequently confide in me about him and the life that they had led together. It was very tough for her because he was killed on a mission in Africa just after he had hit the twenty year retirement mark. In fact, it was his last mission.

It was cold comfort that as his widow, she was going to get his full pension and all the benefits that went along with it. She missed him and the life that they had planned together. She was going to go back to school and finish her degree in teaching. He had taken his engineering degree while at the Naval Academy and had been hired to work for a firm in Southern California when his final tour was up.

Of course I was able to sympathize with all of that. I had known guys in special ops who had almost made it through. I knew some of the wives who lost their husbands and missed them. I was sometimes envious of my colleagues whose wives didn't have any problems towing the line as a military wife. My ex-wife couldn't. We fought all the time and eventually I agreed to a divorce for Sophie's sake. Our lives had become a living hell and Sophie was constantly caught in the middle.

Gail would look sad whenever I talked about Sophie. She never had any kids and now it was no longer in the cards. Her biological clock had ticked down too far. I suppose that it was only natural that we would be drawn to each other. In the beginning, she was reluctant because I was ten years younger than her. But I told her that cougars had always been my favorite animal.

So for the past three years, we have been friends and lovers. She had taken the job as a temporary gig, but she's stayed on to be with me. Grey has always been cool about it. He knows that we are both such professionals that we would never let our personal lives interfere with our jobs. Gail has been very sweet about Sophie too. Sophie likes her because she says that she doesn't talk to her like a kid. Her step-father is a nice guy, but she says that he treats her like a baby.

Gail and I are looking forward to the move to the new house. Grey has been very good about installing a comfortable apartment for us over the garage. It will give all of us more privacy and we'll still be close whenever we are needed. Mrs. Grey, being the wonderful lady that she is, insisted that Gail help with the planning and decoration. And most thoughtfully, she insisted that there be one room for Sophie.

Mr. Grey had told her about Sophie and so she wanted to meet her. My ex-wife gave me a bit of a hard time about it, but she finally agreed as long as it wasn't an overnight visit. While she was there, Mrs. Grey asked her about how she wanted her room decorated and what she would like there. She told her that she wanted her to have a place where she could visit me. I think that my ex-wife is right now trying to think of reasons why this can't happen.

However, Sophie was thrilled. I think that she has always been disappointed that she couldn't spend more time with me, but my ex-wife has kept a pretty strong control over that. And I think that's why they took her to Disneyland for Christmas. I only hope that Sophie doesn't get caught in some kind of "battle" for her affections. Gail and I have discussed it and we want to avoid that kind of competition.

I plan to make this Christmas a very special one for Gail. I am going to ask her to marry me. Mr. Grey has even offered to let us go to Vegas for a weekend to get married. He's planning on taking his wife to Aspen one weekend and he says that we can time it for then. He wants to bring Mrs. Grey while she is pregnant so that she won't be asking to go skiing or snowmobiling. After seeing Mrs. Grey flip the jet ski on their honeymoon, I can understand why.

Yes, despite all of the ups and downs and stresses and tensions of working for Grey, he has definitely made it worthwhile over the years. And all our lives have become a lot better since he got married. I owe that man a lot and now that our lives have resumed a sense of order, I want nothing to disrupt it.

**Christian**

As I am getting into bed after a long day with my beautiful wife, I think about what a really wonderful holiday it has been. In fact, I can honestly say that it was the best Christmas of my life. Of course, I will never forget that first Christmas with my new parents, but this one was different because I was an actual participant rather than observer.

I don't know what inspired me to call up Chris this morning. I hadn't had any desire for any contact with him since he had left. And I was pleased that he had kept his word and not tried to contact me since. I know that it must have been very hard for him to do that, but like my Mom right after she adopted me, he was willing to respect my boundaries.

Then, I don't know what got into me to invite them out to Aspen. Of course when I suggested it to Ana, she was all over it. In addition to the fact that she wants to see this aspect of my life "healed," I know that she and Melissa get along famously. And I have to admit that I am looking forward to seeing the girls again.

And I really do mean it when I say that I think that it would be easier for all concerned if we spent time with the Prices outside of Seattle. Mom and Dad are pretty cool with it, but Mia has been unusually possessive. Ana has suggested that maybe she is having trouble adjusting to all the different changes that have occurred since she went away to Paris. I reluctantly have to agree. It's like we are all moving on, while she is still playing the baby sister.

"Hey! How are you doing?" asks Ana softly as she slips between the sheets. "Was in a happy Christmas for you?"

"The best," I reply, looking into her beautiful blue eyes. "How's Blip?"

"He's quiet now," she says with a smile. "You know, we really are going to think about names."

"Well, you can forget about Christian," I grimace.

"You don't like CJ as a nickname?" she pouts.

"CJ Grey?" I reply. "Nothing doing, I don't like anything that rhymes. I would be happy to call him Raymond after your Dad, but Ray Grey doesn't really float my boat either."

Ana giggles.

"I see what you mean," she answers. "But we don't have to use a family name. We can give our son his own name, a real original."

"I like that idea," I say. "But right now, I'm not much interested in baby names."

"No?" she asks playfully.

Leaning over, I take her mouth in mine and murmur "no." And all thoughts of parent names, baby names, and nicknames go out of my head. The only name that I am interested in is Anastasia.

**I apologize for leaving my faithful readers hanging, but I leave for vacation tomorrow and will be away for the whole week. I will not have the kind of Internet access that I would need to post more chapters. I will be working on the story when I have time. You can look for my next post on 24 August.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**I'm back after a terrific vacation! For those of you who may be wondering, I am purposely weaving other storylines into the murder mystery. I am testing out some secondary plot lines to see if they catch anyone's fancy. Feedback, please!**

**Chapter 5**

**Gail**

Despite all of the upset and nonsense caused by the murder of that wretched woman, it has been a very merry Christmas for all of us. I could never abide the woman, especially the way that she would waltz into the apartment every now and then as if _she _owned the place. As the housekeeper, it is my job to do my work efficiently and be as "invisible" as possible to everyone in the house. However, I do have a pair a of very sharp ears.

I do not understand how anyone, as intelligent as Christian Grey could permit himself to be utterly manipulated by that creature. He must have been blind to the fact that she was controlling nearly every move he made. She had fooled him completely into believing that she made him everything that he was and he would have ended up in the gutter without him. She convinced him that they were two of a kind and he needed to continue all of that "Dom" business to maintain relationships with women.

But was he happy? Anyone with two eyes could see that he was not. Jason often worried that no matter how much money he made he would never derive any real satisfaction. And of course he refused to form any kind of meaningful relationship with any of the women he brought home. Of course, they only served to further encourage his unhealthy lifestyle. But now that that evil woman is finally gone, we finally had a normal holiday season.

I am still amazed at my Christmas gift from Jason. The diamond engagement ring is absolutely perfect! I knew that he had been seriously thinking that it was time for us to get married. We have been "dating" for the past three years. Of course, we live together and have all the benefits of marriage, but just have not gotten around to making anything official.

Then we received a very definite hint from Mr. And Mrs. Grey that they would support our marriage from all of the effort that they put into creating a more private apartment for us at the new house. That has been one of Jason's worries; that Mr. Grey would be afraid that if we did get married, it would somehow impact our ability to do our jobs to his very exacting and demanding standards.

But in the end, I believed that it was Sophie who tipped the scales for him. I was perfectly happy to keep things at status quo. Living together was acceptable to my way of thinking, although my sister thought that we should just tie the knot once and for all and be done with it. However, after Mrs. Grey went to the trouble of decorating a bedroom for Sophie, exactly as she wanted it, the child naturally wanted to be able to use it for overnight visits.

It was at this point that Jason's ex-wife Jeannine stepped in. She told Jason that under no circumstances could Sophie spend the night with us as long as we were unmarried. Jason grumbled that it had not been a problem for Sophie to live with _her _and her second husband before _they _were married, but since Jeannine has primary custody, there was not much that he could.

A few weeks ago, Sophie, rather amusingly, sat the two of us down during a visit and asked us politely if we would mind getting married so that she could come for overnight visits.

"Do you want to see us or stay in your new room?" asked Jason curiously, but also in a teasing tone.

Sophie looked back at him solemnly with her lovely, hazel eyes and replied, "I want to spend more time with you, Daddy. Please, Daddy, won't you marry Gail? And Gail, I promise that I won't be a bother."

"Sophie," I said immediately. "You could never be a bother. We love it when you come to visit."

She looked at me very seriously.

"My Mommy says that you will think that I will be a bother if I come more often," she explained. "She says that you will want Daddy all to yourself."

Jason and I looked at each. Neither of us wished to say what we really thought of her mother and that statement. Instead, I decided to dodge the issue.

"Sophie, if you like, I will call your mother and let her know that you will always be welcome in our home whether we are married or not," I stated. "I enjoy your visits very much and you are certainly no bother."

Sophie smiled her shy smile and said, "Thank you, Gail. I knew that you would say something like that."

Then, she walked over and put her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. I gave her a tight hug and a kiss on each cheek. She then looked over at Jason.

"Daddy," she asked again. "May you and Gail please get married soon?"

He looked back at her, still a bit bemused by the exchange and answered, "I shall seriously consider it."

Jason is a serious man. He does not make hasty or impulsive decisions. Even though the topic had been under discussion for about a year between us, he wanted to make sure that the timing was right and that I didn't mind his long hours working for Mr. Grey. But having been a Navy wife, I was already used to having a husband who was frequently away, and for months at a time. Besides, when the new baby comes, I will be spending more time helping Mrs. Grey anyway.

It is an odd thing that I had always wanted a child, in particular a daughter, but for some reason it had never happened. I have never felt especially motherly towards Sophie, but then again I have spent very little time with her and always on Jeannine's terms. I suspect that when she is with us for longer periods of time that may change, but I don't want to give her mother any reason to feel threatened by me.

No, I don't really see Sophie as a daughter, but since I have met her, I have always felt very protective of Mrs. Grey, Ana. I was really very surprised when Jason first told me about her. She was unlike any of the young women that Mr. Grey had brought home before. She was sweet and innocent and Mr. Grey treated her very differently. Jason said that he was rather "tender" towards her and seemed captivated. And ironically, it was she who interviewed him when they met rather than vice versa.

Most shocking to me was when I went in to make up his bedroom following her first overnight visit, after he left with her to return to Vancouver. I had gone to the upstairs room first and discovered that her bed had not been slept in. Then I went to make up his room and discovered that not only had the young woman slept with him in his bed, she had in fact been a virgin. Knowing about Mr. Grey's sexual preferences, I felt very concerned for the girl. Jason had told me that she was young, but I was amazed by this.

It was at this point, that I began to feel a sympathy for young Miss Steele, sight unseen. While I was not sure if I thought that it was a good thing for her to enter a relationship with Mr. Grey, I wanted to have the chance to meet her. I knew that she must be special. But I had always had minimal contact with the previous women. Still, I thought that perhaps this one would be different.

Jason was down in Portland for the week with Mr. Grey. He did call a couple of times and told me how he had stopped Dr. Trevelyan from entering his bedroom while they were "at it." Then, Mr. Grey introduced Miss Steele to his mother. She nearly had a stroke from the shock, but she clearly was happy to see not only that her son was not gay, but that he had found himself such a nice girl.

When he returned on Friday, he gave me a long list of things to prepare so that everything would be just right for her visit on Sunday. Then, on Monday morning, he walked out of his room to inform me that Miss Steele had spent the night (once again in his room) and would be out for breakfast shortly. He seemed very proud of himself and had forgotten that I knew from Jason that she was there already.

The minute she entered the kitchen, I could see that she was deeply embarrassed. She was just as Jason had described. Although, she was another fair-skinned, brunette, there was a certain innocence that radiated from her being, even after she returned from his office where they had obviously "at it" again.

From then on, I decided to make little Ana, as she insisted that I call her, as comfortable as possible. I was very disappointed when she walked out on him the following weekend. But Jason said that if anyone was more torn up than Mr. Grey, it was that poor child. I can only imagine what he did to her, but I know that it would not have taken much in that "playroom" of his to upset her. And it was obvious that she simply adored him.

When they reconnected, I did everything that I could to make her feel welcome and at home. They were an odd pair in some ways. Although he was so strong and controlling and she seemingly fragile and submissive, they fought like cats and dogs over just about everything. And then after they fought, they made up.

And there were so many crises to deal with. I had to deal with that crazy ex-girlfriend Leila and then Ana did as well. She was nearly attacked by her former boss, Jack Hyde. That precipitated another fight because she had not been using her Blackberry to email him. She was distraught when his helicopter crashed and for a time we didn't know where he was.

Then they became engaged and married, all very quickly. However, the real turning point in my relationship with Ana came when Mr. Grey walked out on her when she told him that she was pregnant. All I wanted to do was comfort her and care for her. She was so disappointed whenever she came home from work or down to breakfast and he wasn't there. I worried about her and the baby and knew at that point that she had become like the daughter that I never had.

After her near death experience with that lunatic Hyde, I decided that I was going to protect her any way that I could, even if it meant occasionally defying Mr. Grey's orders. Mr. Grey was creating all kinds of stress in the house between reading every pregnancy book ever written and then trying to implement a million different recommendations.

If I had ever felt like quitting it was then, but I stayed for Ana. I could see that she needed some kind of buffer, so Sawyer and I organized our plan to give her some normal downtime. Mr. Grey still doesn't know about it, but since the scheme has Dr. Trevelyan's blessing, I am not too worried.

And now for Christmas, Jason has given me a beautiful engagement ring, which, he tells me, Sophie helped to pick out. It is simple and elegant. My sister was thrilled when she saw it. I know that she has been thinking that we have been living in sin these past years, but I no longer care.

In mid-January, Mr. and Mrs. Grey are going to Aspen for the weekend and Jason and I will be going to Las Vegas to get married. There are actually a few places where you can go where it is not totally tacky. As a wedding gift, Mr. Grey is providing us with a luxury suite at the Bellagio, not to mention first class airline accommodations. Mrs. Grey was so excited when she heard, that she wants to take me shopping for a dress to wear. She knows that I am not interested in a wedding dress, but she would like to find me an elegant suit.

Their kindness and generosity is outstanding. In a couple of days we will be moving to the new house. I am looking forward to working in the new kitchen that Ana and I designed. They still plan to come back to Escala occasionally, but Ana really doesn't want to ever leave the new house. Mr. Grey has become resigned to that fact that he will have to commute back into the city. Jason doesn't know what his problem is since he doesn't have to drive or take public transportation.

Ana has the same commute, but she has said that she wants to wake up each morning to her view of the Sound. I can hardly blame her. I have to admit that as far as locations go, it is much nicer than being in the city. I cannot get over the difference that Anastasia has made in all of our lives since she came. She had not only made Mr. Grey a happy man, she has made all of our lives better. I would do anything to protect that sweet, young woman.

**Elliot**

Christmas with Kate's family was exactly what I expected that it would be. We had already developed a nice, easy-going relationship back in Barbados. But now that I've asked Kate to marry me, I've been accepted as one of the inner circle. The Kavanaghs are a tough, independent breed, so it's a good match.

At first, I was attracted to Kate because she was sexy as hell and feisty when it came to Christian. Most women drool all over him when they first meet him. But when we went in in looking for Ana, she asked him "what the fuck" he was doing there and then that Jose had the situation under control. That pissed my little brother off and he went stomping outside to find them.

Then, she cast those gorgeous green eyes on me and I was a goner. She asked me if I wanted to dance and the next thing I knew, I was out on the dance floor watching this girl throw all her best moves at me. It was obvious that she had one thing on her mind when she waved off Christian and Ana. Once they were out of sight, she was all over me, grinding her body against mine as if she would take me on the dance floor.

That night in her apartment was incredible. I have had very few women who was as feisty and had as much stamina as she did. She's a screamer and so am I, so we had some damn fine and loud fucking. I was only too happy to stick around for a another night. All that I could think was that she was addictive and before I knew it, I was offering to help the girls move to Seattle and then, I couldn't help myself, decided to follow her to Barbados.

I was lucky that her parents were so cool about it. Her Mom and Dad are both pretty strong people, and they raised Kate to take care of herself. After a few nights of her sneaking off to my room, her Mom just told us to share. It was certainly a lot more convenient. Plus sneaking around made me feel like I was back in college or something. At thirty, I'm definitely past all that shit.

I still find it difficult to believe that Kate and Ana are the same age. Kate looks older and more sophisticated, and personally, I think that Ana could pass for a high school girl. It totally blew me away that Christian was interested in _her _of all women. And Kate tells me that until they started dating, Ana had no fashion sense whatsoever. Kate always told her that she had the goods, but just didn't know how to show them off.

Another part of that was having very limited funds. No two ways about it, Christian bought her a whole new wardrobe right after she moved in with him. Kate told me that in the beginning, they fought constantly over the fact that he was always buying her stuff: laptop, Blackberry, car, iPad, and new wardrobe. Ana was afraid that everyone would figure that she was some kind of gold digger or "ho."

And Ana has always been fiercely independent, insisting on paying Kate rent when her parents were picking up the tab for the apartment. She was always embarrassed because when she took local trips with Kate's family that she couldn't reciprocate. But knowing my little brother, the fact that she couldn't care less about his money was probably what attracted him. Christian likes the power trip of paying the whole restaurant tab or flying the family around in his company jet.

I know, however, that he has no use for people who try to sponge off of him. Since he's met and married Ana, I figured that he had avoided the whole dating scene before because he didn't like the way the girls fell all over him for his looks and money. Then Ana comes along, all innocent and unworldly. And, boom! He's hooked. In business, he has this thing about taking failing companies and turning them around. I think that maybe he saw the potential in Ana and wanted to pull a Professor Henry Higgins on her.

When I think about his really shitty start in life, I figure that he has been avoiding commitment because he didn't want to get hurt, and well, one look at Ana and you know that she wouldn't hurt a flea. I just wish that I could have been a fly on the wall when Mom almost walked in on them in bed. That's not the kind of story that my Mom would go repeating to the whole family, but I think that she was so glad that he wasn't gay that she was just dying to tell the whole world, even though she never would.

This afternoon, Ethan and I had a long talk about Mia and he told me point blank that even though he liked her and thought that she was a sweet kid, she was trying to move way too fast for him. Especially since he was surprised to find out that she was the same age as his sister Kate. With that point of reference, Mia doesn't stand a chance. And she doesn't do much to help herself when she starts acting like a kid falling all over Christian and doing nothing with her life except shopping and go out clubbing.

I guess that I've been blind to it because to me she's always going to be my baby sister, but looking at through Ethan's eyes has kind of sobered me up. I'm glad that she's going to Seattle in January to get a degree. And I agree with Christian. Even though he would have set her up with a strong team to handle the business end of things, she is just way to immature to manage her own catering company. She's so spoiled and impulsive that she would probably run it into the ground in six months.

At least I know that Ethan has a soft spot for her. He's doing his best not to hurt her feelings while not building up any unrealistic expectations. And unlike the way that I feel about Kate, he doesn't see himself settling down with her. Christian and Ana. Kate and I. We all just clicked pretty quickly, but it takes two tango, as Mom always says. I think that in the end, Mia may very well have to find someone else to tango with.

And I don't think that any of the Kavanaghs missed Mia too much today. Mia comes on too strong and tries to dominate the conversation. That wouldn't sit too well with the family, especially since dinner conversation tends to be about politics, foreign affairs, and the latest happenings in the economy. Those are not exactly Mia's areas of expertise. I enjoy it however, more than I would have realized. I've even started to read more than the sports section of the _Seattle Times._

Mr. Kavanagh was asking me about the whole Elena Lincoln murder thing, but I think that he knew more about it than I did. Yeah, for some reason after Christian's birthday party she and Mom had a fall out, but I don't know what about. I can't be bothered with all that social crap, and I never liked the woman anyway. There was something about her that kind of creeped me out.

I guess that I wasn't too surprised that Christian had been her silent partner in the salon business after she got hosed in the divorce settlement. He's always been a soft touch when he believes that someone has been mistreated. Despite the fact that I didn't like her, even I have to admit that she had a really good idea and did a damn good job of building up a strong business.

Christian bailed out of the partnership after his birthday party, but I figure that that was because of her disagreement (whatever that was) with Mom. Christian may have felt sorry for her, but he adores Mom and is very loyal to her. And typical of him, he gifted the whole thing to her rather than making her buy him out.

Now, the whole business of her having a dungeon, being a Dominatrix, and having her own collared, submissive "pet boy" kind of reinforced for me that I was smart to stay away from her. I'm just glad that my family didn't have too much to do with her, except for Mom who was just as shocked as anyone. Elena may have been a pervert, but she at least was generous with her money.

It's pretty obvious that beneath that sophisticated veneer, she was a real sicko. Kavanagh obviously wants to get a handle on the story. Whichever news group breaks it is going to make a fortune. His hypothesis is that she ran into some problems with someone into that whole BDSM scene who had her popped off. But those people live so far in the shadows, that it's almost impossible to trace any of them.

And her "pet" Isaac knew shit about her. It's lucky for him that he is such an idiot, because he is obviously too stupid to have pulled off such a crime. But he has also been pretty tight lipped about their relationship, no juicy details. Kavanagh refuses to engage in all of the hypothetical crap that the tabloids keep tossing out about what that lifestyle is like and what she may or may not have been up to.

I was glad when the conversation moved onto the upcoming presidential election in 2012. I really don't like having all that shit in my head. To tell the truth, I'm just as happy that she's gone. I just don't want to have to think about her anymore.

**Christian**

Anastasia was so thrilled when she learned that Taylor had proposed to Gail for Christmas. She had already planned to surprise them by picking up a tradition that she had seen on the TV show "Downton Abbey" where for Christmas, the wealthy family waited upon their servants and kind of turned things around. I had to admit that I liked the idea. Ana is a great cook and I am more than able to set a table and cleanup. But Taylor and Gail only agreed to it if we would eat with them.

So on the day after Christmas, Ana and I took care of making up the noontime meal. Ana prepared a lovely salmon dish with all sorts of vegetables and rice, Gail's favorite. For dessert she made a wonderful raspberry forte, Taylor's favorite. I don't know how she found that out, but it is typical of her thoughtfulness and kindness. I would never have thought of doing anything like this, but she pointed out that if we want to keep them both around, that little things like this sometimes mean more than money.

Ana was excited about their upcoming wedding plans for Las Vegas. She was disappointed that we couldn't go and that little Sophie wouldn't be able to attend. She had been the flower girl for her mother's second wedding. But Taylor explained that including Sophie would have been more trouble than it was worth and they were already going to be facing enough battles with her mother.

Since the divorce, Jeannine had been subtly trying to pull Sophie away from Taylor by limiting visits and coming up with excuses at the last minute for canceling scheduled visits. Sophie however, has not been playing along. She is terribly excited about the move to the new house and the fact that Ana has decorated a bedroom especially for her in the apartment. Sophie knew about the engagement before Gail did. She helped Taylor to pick out the ring.

Despite the fact that I love our apartment in Escala, I am glad that we are finally making the move tomorrow. I have been very impressed by Ana's efforts at interior design choice of furniture and decoration. Escala quite definitely reflects my taste for the modern, utilitarian style of furnishings. Our new home has a bit of old world charm, but the style is simple and not fussy.

Ana has frequently told me that my apartment resembles an art gallery. The new house looks like a family home. It is quite definitely a place to raise children. Yes, I can finally admit that I am looking forward to having children, plural. Ana insists that our son will not be an only child. She has also pointed out that if we have our children while we are young, when they are grown up and move out we will have lots of time to "grow old together" while we are still young enough to enjoy it. I like the sound of that.

As we discuss all of these things at dinner, I can see that Gail is happy at the idea of more children running around the house, while Taylor is already calculating the security risks and challenges. However, if the children grow up familiar with the security measures they will be much less of a problem than Ana who is constantly rebelling against them.

Unfortunately, after our pleasant dinner, I receive a phone call from Detective Clark.

"Mr. Grey," he says without preamble. "The news is about to break that Mrs. Lincoln died without leaving a last will and testament. Were you aware of this?"

I try to think about it. I had spoken to Elena several times about writing a will but she always said that she had no one that she could leave anything to. I had suggested charity, but she had only said that she would consider it.

"I recommended on several occasions that Mrs. Lincoln write a will," I reply. "She told me that she had no one to leave anything to. I suggested that she arrange to liquidate her assets after she passed away and donate the proceeds and any other money that she had to one or more of the various charities that she was always supporting."

"Did she agree to that?" he asks.

"If she had," I say logically. "Then I am sure that you would have found a will. Elena was very organized about those kinds of things."

"But she had told you that she had no one to leave anything to," he states. "You are very clear about that."

"Very clear," I answer as I start to feel annoyed. "Look. I wish that I could help you out with this, if only to get you off my back. My connection to Elena was all about the business. A will is a very personal matter. All I can say is that she must have ignored my advice. It would not have been the first time."

"I see," he says. "Can you think of anyone else that she may have discussed it with?"

"Have you spoken with the lawyer who handled her business affairs?" I ask.

"Yes," he says. "But he doesn't know anything about it. He . . . uh, said that it was a personal matter."

"Well," I say. "I can't think of anything else."

"I am sorry for taking up your time," he replies politely. "Thank you for your trouble."

Like hell you're sorry for taking up my time, I think. I'm sure that he is afraid of what will happen when the news breaks. Everyone and anyone with a marginal connection to Elena will come out of the woodwork to make a claim.

But Clark has got to be feeling desperate now. He's got a crime that has been getting national attention and he is no closer to solving it than the day he got the case.

**Clark**

We have finally made the big announcement about the fact that Elena Lincoln did not leave behind a last will and testament. However, since we have specified that all claimants who come forward will have to submit to a DNA test to prove blood relation, no one has come forward. However, I have another avenue to investigate. As per the divorce agreement, Mr. Lincoln is entitled to inherit, provided that she has no living blood relatives.

It will be interesting to find out if he has done anything to pursue this claim. He was the first person to tell me that she had no other family or relatives that he knew of. If he knew that he could inherit, it would give him a platinum plated motive. He had only recently suffered from a hostile takeover, his company destroyed, and his fortune lost. What easier way to replace it than with his ex-wife's business. Even if he didn't want to run it himself, he could easily sell it for a tidy profit.

He does have a rock solid alibi and at the time of the murder, he did not have the money to pay for a hit. However, he could have promised payment after he cam win to his new fortune. Yes, the evidence is circumstantial, but it's better than nothing. In the meantime, another possibility has come to light.

Rumors have been going around the club scene among the young people that Mia Grey was very upset to discover that Elena Lincoln had been behind the media leak of the Christian Grey/Christian Price father-son relationship. Reports are that before Mrs. Lincoln returned from her vacation, she had been making some very dramatic threats regarding the woman.

I know that I am still grasping at straws, but I have decided to interview the friend, supposedly her best friend, who has been identified as the individual who is the source of the rumors. Mia Grey is not viewed by anyone as anything more than a vapid, social butterfly with too much time on her hands. However, she is highly volatile and very impulsive, in addition to being immature.

While there is no way that she could possibly have committed the crime herself, she could easily have paid for someone to do it. At the age of twenty-two, she has unlimited access to her trust fund and she gets regular cash gifts from her brother Christian, who notoriously spoils her and indulges her every whim. She is apparently very jealous of Grey's three newly discovered "little sisters." She blames Mrs. Lincoln for all of her problems.

Lily Jackson and Mia Grey have been friends since kindergarten. Apparently, Lily has had a crush on Christian Grey for years and was very jealous when he married Mrs. Grey. She is not only the same age as Mia, she has the same lifestyle revolving around social events and shopping. Like Mia, her father is a high powered attorney. Even though Lily is not under any suspicion, I contacted him directly to arrange the interview. Why waste time when I know that the kid won't say a word without her Dad present?

I decided to be accommodating and offer to come to his law office. As soon as I enter the conference room, I can see that the girl, flanked by her father and another lawyer is very nervous. I begin by assuring her that she is not under suspicion for any crime and therefore I will not be reading her the Miranda warning like she may have seen on TV. She looks at her father and he nods to her.

"Just tell the truth, honey," he says, encouragingly.

"But, Dad . . ." she starts to whine.

"Just tell the truth," he says firmly, and nods at me.

I know that he just wants me out of his office as quickly as possible. He wants no connection with this mess and quite frankly, Carrick will be enough of a handful if I have to deal with Mia. I plan to make this as quick and painless as possible.

"Miss Jackson," I say quietly. "I understand that Mia Grey had been making threats regarding Mrs. Lincoln while she, Mrs. Lincoln, was out of town. Is this true?"

"Yes," replies Lily. "But it was only because she was pissed that . . ."

Her father immediately interrupts.

"I told you several times, Lily," he scolds. "Only answer the question asked. Do not offer any more information."

He looks at me sharply and I nod.

"So she made threats?" I ask.

"Yes," she says truculently.

"What was the nature of these threats?" I ask.

Lily looks at her father.

"Tell the truth," he says.

"But I don't want to get Mia into any trouble," she says.

I say nothing, but look at Jackson. He is starting to get pissed at his daughter.

"Tell the truth!" he repeats impatiently.

Lily looks down and then away. Finally she speaks.

"Mia said that she wished that she could rip her hair out," she answers. "She said that she wanted to kick her scrawny, little ass all over the place. She said that she wished that she could kill her."

I nod briefly.

"Did she ever say anything about how she might do that?" I ask.

"No, but . . ." she starts.

"Lily," says Jackson harshly.

"Did she say anything about hiring a hit man?" I ask.

"Yeah, but it was a joke," she answers loudly and emphatically so that she can speak over her father's voice.

Jackson is now looking daggers at her.

"Did she ever say anything about having found or contacted a hit man?" I ask.

"No," she replies, and looks at her father.

This is all that I need to ask her. She has simply confirmed the rumors that I had heard from my snitches. I look at Jackson and nod.

"Thank you, Miss Jackson," I say formally. "I have no further questions."

"But . . ." she begins.

"I have no further questions," I interrupt, as I stand.

Jackson and I shake hands. I think that he appreciates the fact that I have prevented his daughter from adding any elaboration to her answers. It wouldn't do herself or Mia Grey any good if she had. All that I needed was confirmation of the rumors. The whole thing sounded as if Mia Grey had been running off at the mouth and making foolish statements about Elena Lincoln. If she's lucky, this shit will stay out of the press.

For the moment, I have a much stronger motive and circumstantial case against Linc Lincoln. I really need to review all of my facts about him. There is something more that I have not yet uncovered in the relationship between him, his ex-wife, and Christian Grey. I suspect that if I can figure it out, then I will finally get a real break in the case.


	7. Chapter 6

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 6**

**Carrick**

I just got a call from my old friend Emmet Jackson. It turns out that the police have just interviewed his daughter Lily in connection with the Elena Lincoln murder case. It would appear that my daughter has been making some very ridiculous statements in public about her hatred of Elena and they have reached the ears of the cops. There have been many times in her life that Mia has annoyed me, but this time really takes the cake.

"Mia!" I call as I walk out of my office as calmly as possible.

"Yes, Daddy?" she calls back.

Her voice is as vivacious and cheerful as ever, but I am in no mood for her charming antics. She needs to listen and not make excuses for her foolish statements. Damage control will start now.

"Please come down and meet me in the living room," I reply. "You too, Grace."

Looking puzzled, my wife joins me on the couch after I reach out my hand. As Mia enters the room, I indicate that she should sit across from us. As usual, she bounces into her seat, grinning.

"What is it Daddy?"

"Mia, we need to have a serious discussion," I begin sternly. "Word has come to me that you have been making some very foolish statements in public in the last month or so, statements regarding the late Elena Lincoln."

Grace immediately looks nervous, as Mia tosses back her short, dark hair defiantly. I am in no mood for her response.

"Mrs. Lincoln was a skanky, old bitch who got what she deserved," she answers, as if I have annoyed her. "Nobody is sorry that she's gone, especially after she ruined Christian's life."

"That is the kind of irresponsible statement that I am talking about," I answer, attempting to control my rising anger. "I understand that among your friends, you were making threats about wanting to kill her and hiring a hit man."

"Mia!" gasps Grace. "How could you?"

Mia rolls her eyes.

"Oh, Mom!" she says flippantly. "It was only a joke."

"Well, young lady," I reply sharply. "Taken out of context, your 'joke' has reached the ears of the police, who do not find it the least bit funny."

"Carrick!" exclaims Grace. "What has happened?"

For the first time since we have sat down, Mia has stopped smiling and fidgeting. She has become very quiet and attentive.

"Apparently," I explain in a milder tone. "Detective Clark has been to see your friend Lily, who has been passing rumors around about what you said. I correct myself. The rumors are rampant among all of your so-called friends, but he believes that she was the originator. Her father just called me to tell me that he had been to his office to interview her. Jackson tried to limit the damage by insisting that Lily only tell the truth and answer the questions directly, without embellishment."

"Well," replied Mia petulantly. "Lily is officially no longer my best friend."

"That is the least of your worries," I say. "If you had not been shooting off your mouth in the first place, this would never have happened. What in God's name were you thinking making those kinds of threats? We all know how angry you are that she informed the press about Christian's biological father and the fact that she was the one who most probably hired the private investigator who found him. But that is no excuse for talking like that, even if she hadn't ended up dead."

"Mia," adds Grace. "It is a dreadful thing to say about anyone, even if she is an evil and manipulative woman."

"Well," pouts Mia. "I bet that you're not sorry that she's dead. You basically ruined her social life and almost took her business down."

"But I would never in a million years have killed her or even considered it," says Grace. "Ruining someone's social life is a far cry from taking her life. What were you thinking?"

"I don't know," she answers. "I guess that I was just letting off steam. You know everything was fine and then she had to go and spoil it. . ."

"Mia," I interrupt her rant. "Let us not miss the point. And that is that Elena Lincoln was violently murdered in her own home by what was obviously a professional gunman, probably hired by someone who was seeking revenge. The issue is not her character. The issue in this case is that someone who committed a violent crime is still walking the streets freely.

"Now I personally think that the police are grasping at straws if they think that you had anything to do with it, but the public and the press are hounding them for progress on the case. I have to ask you some important questions. First of all, where were you when she was killed?"

"Carrick!"

"Daddy, how can you ask me that?" cries Mia.

"I need to know because if Detective Clark wants to talk to you, then you will talk to him with me present," I explain. "Before you answer any questions, I need to know what your responses are."

"I was at home that night, and so was Mom," she says, finally chastened. "I was on the phone."

"Your cell phone?"

"Yes."

"Good," I nod. "We can get the records."

"Now prior to that, had you made any large withdrawals from your trust fund?" I ask.

"Of course, I did," she replies. "I was Christmas shopping."

"Were you using credit cards?" I ask. "Did you use the money to pay credit card bills?"

"No," she answers, making a face. "I hate credit cards. I always forget to pay the bills and then I get nasty phone calls. I always pay in cash."

"I suppose that this is a stupid question," I say grimly. "But you don't happen to have the receipts, do you?"

"Of course not," she answers. "Why would I save all that stuff?"

"Well, in this case," I reply drily. "To prove how you spent your money. How much did you withdraw?"

"Um," she says. "I don't know, a lot I guess. I would have to go to the bank and check the balance."

"Oh, Lord Almighty, give me patience," I mutter. "Mia, I knew that you were irresponsible with money, but I didn't realize how much. I knew that you liked to shop, but I thought that at least you had some idea of what you were spending."

"Christian spends money like water," she retorts. "You said so yourself."

"Christian is a billionaire, who works for a living making money to replenish his coffers," I reply. "He has a wife and a child on the way and he makes millions of dollars in donations to various charities. And I am sure that he knows exactly how much money he spends, and if he doesn't then Andrea does."

"Maybe I need a PA," she suggests.

"Maybe you need a course in basic accounting and another one in economics," I reply. "In a case like this, where the police are forced to start chasing shadows, whenever a possible suspect arises, they start from the premise that this person is innocent until proven guilty.

"In this case, I am sure that Clark would rather eliminate you as a suspect than have to deal with me or your brother. Your irresponsibility, which started this mess, is making his job harder. In other words, you aren't doing anything to help yourself, while you have done a lot to hurt yourself."

"I didn't do it," she sulks. "So why should I have to worry?"

At this point, I can't talk to her anymore. I realize that all of this is really our fault: Grace, Elliot, Christian, and myself, because we have spent the last twenty-two years indulging her every whim. My poor wife is looking upset once more.

"Mia," I say calmly. "Please go up to your room and stay off the phone and the computer."

Her mouth drops open.

"I don't want you adding more fuel to the fire, do you understand?" I add.

"Yes, sir," she says meekly and as she leaves the room she gives a kiss to both Grace and me. When she is gone, Grace looks at me.

"Carrick, is this really bad?" she asks anxiously.

"Not as bad as it sounds," I reply. "The police are, indeed, grasping at straws. It is unfortunate that our daughter has given them one to grasp. But, this is a very weak circumstantial case at best. Clark knew that Jackson would call me the minute that the interview is over, probably to give me time to prepare Mia. She may be interviewed as a 'person of interest,' but there is not a shred of proof of any wrongdoing."

"Then why are they doing this?" she asks. "Are they trying to harass us?"

"Trust me," I say. "They don't really want to harass us. But right now they are looking pretty foolish. They don't want to admit that someone may have pulled off the perfect crime. Unfortunately, sooner or later the press will uncover it and it will fill up a twenty-four hour news cycle. But let's forget about that and address the larger issue.

"Mia has got to learn some self control. Christian is going to be furious. In fact, I am going to call him now to let him know. Why don't you call Elliot? But tell him to keep his mouth shut to Kate. She has been dying to sink her teeth into this story. I know that Elliot has spoken with her, but I would prefer to keep temptation out of her way."

"And that's why you told Mia to stay off the phone?" she asks. "Are you afraid she'll tell Ethan?"

"Among others," I reply. "Her friends have proven untrustworthy. I am afraid that she is going to learn a very hard lesson from this incident. And I don't want her talking to Christian first. She will undoubtedly get him all worked up and you know what his temper is like."

"As always, dear, you're right," she sighs. "I am beginning to wish that we had never met Elena Lincoln."

"Yes, dear, I feel the same way," I agree.

Actually, I have been wishing that since I had my conversation with Chris Price before he left Seattle. Luckily, Grace has not yet put two and two together with regards to Elena's lifestyle and her involvement with Christian. And I am glad that I was forewarned. It gave me time to get over the shock before going over and confronting him. However, it is very hard to say with what I would have confronted him, if I had gone over to the house.

My son was young and vulnerable. She seduced him and then led him down a very dark road. It is no wonder that she hated Ana so much. It has become clear to me that it is Ana who has led him back to the light and given him a shot at a normal, happy family life. There is no way that I will let anything destroy that. Whatever has happened to Elena Lincoln, it had nothing to do with him,

**Taylor**

It has been one of those days when the mood in the Grey house has swung from north to south in a manner of minutes. Today we made the official move into the new house on the shore. Of course most of the move involved clothing and personal items, since we will continue to keep a fully set up household in Escala. The Greys had just finished dinner and Gail was getting ready to return to our apartment when the phone rang.

It had been a long time since Grey has blown his stack the way that he has tonight. Gail has been with Ana for the past two hours trying to sooth her. Although this has nothing to do with her, she is still deeply affected by his moods. While Gail has been tending to her, I have been subjected to a full out, Christian Grey tantrum. He hasn't been this angry since the night that he found out that Ana was pregnant.

The lesson that I took away from that was not to allow him to leave the house and keep him away from the liquor cabinet. Ana will be even more upset if he walks out and she doesn't know where he is. And eventually, he will go to bed with her. I cannot permit him to do this drunk.

Fortunately, he has been content to sit in his study and yell at me about Detective Clark and all of his inadequacies as an investigator. He is swearing up a storm as usual. I never knew that there were so many variations of the root word "fuck," although I suspect that he is inventing a few new ones as he goes along. He seems to be missing the point however that more of the blame belongs to his sister, than to Clark.

There are three people whom Grey loves more than his own life: Ana, Grace, and Mia. Mia has always been pampered and spoiled by her family to the point that she has become self-indulgent and childish. Throwing public temper tantrums about the woman who probably leaked the story to the press about Grey's biological father and most likely being the one who found him was pretty reckless.

Anyone with half a brain could see that Mrs. Lincoln was making enemies left and right and playing a dangerous game. But there are times when I doubt that Mia has even half a brain. Elena Lincoln was a train wreck waiting to happen. Sooner or later, she was going to piss off the wrong person and find herself in a situation that she could no longer control.

At last Grey has run out of steam, and invective. After standing and listening to him for the past two hours, I calmly suggest that he either try to do some work or go to bed and get some sleep.

"I have half a mind to go out and find Clark and beat the shit out of him," he growls. "How dare he put my sister through this?"

"I would not recommend that, sir," I answer respectfully. "Assaulting and possibly killing a police officer are major offenses. Think about what it would do to Mrs. Grey if you were in prison when the baby is born."

He looks back at me uncertainly.

"It's not just about Mia," he says in confusion. "I forgot that."

"I don't see how beating the shit out of Clark would benefit Miss Grey either," I reply patiently. "However, she is not my concern. I am hired to protect you and Mrs. Grey. In this case, in order to protect your wife, I am going to have to restrain you from making any foolish choices. Your sister has gone beyond the pale in making foolish statements, but that is her responsibility, not yours."

"But I hate to see her in this position on account of me," he says.

I sigh.

"She put herself in this position on her own behalf," I say. "May I speak freely?"

Now he sighs.

"You might as well," he replies. "You have been listening to _me_ rant for the past two hours."

"Yes, I have," I state. "From my perspective, as an outsider, it seems that Miss Grey has been feeling unnecessarily jealous because your biological father has not only appeared, but he has brought three half-sisters for you along with him. Your sister is, for whatever reason, intensely jealous of them."

"That's crazy!" he exclaims. "They are cute kids, but I feel nothing for them certainly not anything like I feel for Mia."

"No offense, sir," I reply. "But your sister is not the most . . . logical woman on the planet. Of course, you enjoy their company, but I have not observed that you feel a whole lot of affection for them, nor they for you."

"True enough," he admits. "In fact, Melissa told me that they were jealous of me. What is it with all these crazy women?"

"I don't know," I say. "But my suggestion is that you let your father deal with your sister. You have Mrs. Grey to worry about. Gail has been with her for the last two hours trying to comfort her. Even though your ravings had nothing to do with her, anything that upsets you; upsets her."

Now he looks guilty. He knows this. I give him time to process my words.

"Thank you for reminding me of that, Taylor," he says. "I will go see her now."

I follow him to their bedroom, where Gail is sitting on the bed with Mrs. Grey. She has her arm around her shoulder. Mrs. Grey is leaning on her as Gail strokes her hair. I can see that she is whispering to her. I can see Grey's eyes soften when he sees them.

"Thank you, Mrs. Jones," he says softly. "I will take it from here."

At the sound of his voice, Mrs. Grey looks up at him hopefully. He walks over to the bed and once Gail stands up, sits down and envelops his wife in a close embrace. Gail and I turn and leave them alone.

"Is he okay now?" she asks, when we are out of earshot.

"I think so, but with him you never know," I reply. "He never deals well with situations that are out of his control. However, when I reminded him that his wife needed him, he was finally able to put things in perspective. Mia got herself in some trouble, but it is up to her father to get her out. We all know that she hasn't done anything, but the police are desperate."

"It's amazing that they have no clues whatsoever," she comments.

"Well, it seems that they have at least two people who didn't like her," I say. "Her ex-husband and Mia Grey. At least those are the two most obvious. The lady lived half of her life in a shady and dangerous world. It is very possible that she had enemies that they haven't uncovered yet. Because of the nature of that alternative lifestyle and it's secrecy, chances are they may never have the whole story."

"Do you think that someone from that world could be that smart?" she asks innocently.

"Gail, you know very well that very brilliant people are fully capable of living the BDSM lifestyle," I answer logically. "And you also know that they are very capable of hiding their predilections. My guess is that Mrs. Lincoln got herself involved with the wrong person or persons. The whole thing could easily have blown up in her face."

"Do you think that the killer will ever be found?" she asks.

"Who knows?" I shrug. "But chances are that if they haven't found anything of substance yet, they won't find anything at all. The trail is growing colder every day."

I can see that this talk has disturbed her. So I change the subject.

"How is Ana?" I ask.

She smiles softly.

"She's really better than she looks," she says. "She just hates to see him in such a state. She will be fine now that he is calm and comforting her."

"You are really quite fond of her," I comment.

"In many ways, she's the daughter that I never had," she replies honestly. "You know we have been through so much together in the last six months. I can see her fragility and how easily Mr. Grey can hurt her and it makes me want to protect her, to take care of her. And we talk a lot, you know? Her mother was never much of a mother to her."

"What about her relationship with Dr. Trevelyan?" I ask curiously.

"That's interesting," she answers. "Dr. Trevelyan loves her because of everything that she has done for her son. She is very caring, but they have not developed a close relationship in the sense that she feels that she can share things with her. Ana and I also understand each other because I was a navy wife and Ray is ex-army. I am afraid that she feels sometimes that Dr. Trevelyan is a little above her league. She's really a very down to earth girl."

"I guess that I can see that," I reply. "But Grey doesn't really want us having close relationships with them. He prefers distance."

"Well, he's not home with her a lot because he works so hard," she replies. "And when he's not home, you're not home. We keep each other company."

"I understand," I say. "And if he gets bent out of shape then I'll try to make him understand."

"Thank you," she says simply.

I hold out my arms and she comes into my embrace and allows me to cuddle her closer. As I hold her, I think about this whole mess that Elena Lincoln has created. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but the woman is more trouble in death than in life.

**Grace**

Well, Detective Clark has just left the house after interviewing Mia and it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought that it would be. She sat between Carrick and myself at the dining room table and humbly answered all of his questions. For his part, Clark was stern, but not antagonistic. He simply wanted to hear her side of the stories of her rantings that had been flying around since the Elena Lincoln murder broke. Before he left, he commented that the tabloids were going to be very disappointed.

For once, Mia actually followed her father's advice to the letter. She did not like the questions that Detective Clark asked her about the threats that she had made about Elena. She also did her best to keep her emotions in check about her. The questions about the large cash withdrawals from her trust fund were embarrassing for her. She had to admit that she doesn't keep track of her spending and doesn't like using credit cards because she forgets to pay the bills.

Clark did not ask a single thing about hit men or paying for them. He must have realized that she would have no idea of where to even begin to look for one. The crime had been so perfectly executed that there was no way that she could have committed it on her own. As soon as Clark left, she went up to her room. Carrick returned to the office, so I decide to go upstairs and talk to her.

"Come in," she says in a resigned voice when I knock.

As I enter, I can see that she is lying on her bed staring up at the ceiling. She has been very subdued since our last discussion. I know that she has spoken to her brothers, and both of them had told her the same thing. It is time for her to grow up and behave more responsibly. She has not been able to discuss it with her friends, for fear that one of them may talk to the press.

"Well, it looks like the worst of the nightmare is over," I say to test the waters.

"Yes, Mom," she agrees.

"Have you learned anything from this experience?" I ask tentatively.

"I've learned that I can't trust Lily or any of my other friends," she replies truculently.

I shake my head.

"No, Mia, have you learned anything about yourself?" I press on.

I know that she doesn't want to talk about it by the way that she rolls her eyes at me. Nobody likes to admit that they are wrong. But for Mia, she needs to admit that she must change her behavior in some very large and substantive ways. And it doesn't take any expensive psychologist to understand that she doesn't want to.

"Mia," I continue patiently. "You realize that you need to grow up and find some direction for your life. In a few months you will be twenty-three, but you don't have any kind of college degree or career plan. You fill your days with shopping trips and your evenings with clubbing and parties. Now, you will not be able to continue that in a couple of weeks when you start school, but I want you to know that we expect that you to stick it out."

"I know, Mom," she says with a sigh. "But you know that I was never much of a student. School has never been my thing. And I think that it's awfully mean of Christian to expect me to get a college degree when he never finished his."

"But Christian turned his life around when he was still in high school," I reply. "He dropped out of Harvard, not State U. He had a plan and figured out how to earn a lot of money, doing what he loved to do. You, on the other hand, skated through high school and didn't even apply to college. You talked us into the French cuisine school, but there hasn't been much that you have done with that.

"You need to think in terms of a career rather than a hobby. Young women today don't marry once they leave high school and live the life of the wealthy, married woman anymore. Most men worth marrying want women who can hold intelligent discussions with them. And they want wives with interests of their own. Look at the women that your brothers have chosen as wives."

"Do you think that that is why Ethan doesn't want to have a more serious relationship?" she asks.

"I believe that that is part of it," I say. "But he is also not ready to settle down. He is really very young himself. After all he is five years younger than Christian and seven years younger than Elliot. He has a rigorous graduate program ahead of him. If he wants to succeed, he will need to spend many hours both studying and working. You know, it's kind of like med students who choose not to marry until they are at a career point where they are ready to settle down."

"Oh," she says. "So then it's not really about me."

"Mia, everything is not about you," I answer patiently. "Family and friends make decisions for themselves all the time that have nothing to do with you. You need to strike out on your own and create your own life. You need to be patient with yourself and leave yourself open to new possibilities.

"And you need to stop quitting as soon as things are not going your way. Sometimes in life, you just need to see things through. Show Ethan that you are taking full advantage of your college classes. Talk to him about the different things you are learning. I guarantee that it will interest him a lot more than the new dress you just bought."

"Oh," she says.

"And Mia," I continue. "You need to cultivate some new friends, and not just because your present friends betrayed you. Your friends are just as unfocused and without direction as you are. You need to spend more time with people who have goals in life."

She looks at me, surprised because I have never spoken so candidly to her before. But I have coddled her long enough. I want to see my daughter happy in life, but I can tell that she will never be truly happy unless she moves forward and starts to mature. I leave her alone to think about my words. I am hopeful that she will finally begin to take my advice to heart.

**Price**

The news out of Seattle about the murder of that awful woman has been absolutely scandalous. First there was the murder itself. She returned home from her vacation in the South Pacific and was shot to death in her own house. It was obviously a professional job, no fingerprints or any other clues. In fact, they have been unable to find any hairs or fibers other than those of herself and her "boyfriend."

The "boyfriend," Isaac, who discovered her was clearly an oddball. The papers described him as some kind of "Goth," who could barely answer their questions. He obviously knew nothing, but was the key to discovering her lifestyle. When they made a complete search of the house, the police discovered that she had her own private BDSM dungeon in her basement.

The photos of the place revealed the exact nature of this very twisted and perverted woman. She had all kinds of torture devices. Her closets revealed only black clothing including a wardrobe of black leather than looked like something out of a comic book. It made me sick. I hate to even imagine the kind of abuse that he suffered at her hands.

Carrick and I discussed the matter, unbeknownst to Christian of course. While we both knew of the fact that she had collared him while he was still underage, neither of us had done too much research into the lifestyle. It made both of us sick to think of what our son must have gone through during his teenage years. It became obvious to Carrick why he had had no normal dating with young women his own age. This woman had very nearly ruined him for any kind of loving relationship with any young woman.

The rest of the Greys had learned that Christian had had an "affair" with Mrs. Lincoln during those early years, however none of them knew the true nature. When he was questioned, her ex-husband absolutely denied any knowledge of her alternative lifestyle.

Luckily, Grace took this to mean that she didn't start all of that nonsense until after she had finished with Christian. She is a very smart lady, but it is easier for her to remain in denial. Carrick and I have agreed that it is absolutely necessary that she stay that way. Other than Carrick, I have never breathed a word of this to anyone, not even to Melissa. There is no benefit and it will only cause great heartache to anyone who has ever known and loved Christian.

Linc Lincoln is quite a smooth piece of work himself. The police have interviewed him a couple of times. Despite the fact that he hated her like poison, there was no reason to suspect that after all these years and for no reason at all, he would suddenly decide o bump her off. However, recently his company was broken up in a hostile takeover by Grey Enterprises. While that would make him hate Christian, whom he already disliked, it gave him no motive to kill Elena.

That is until the most recent revelation. Mrs. Lincoln left no will. She had always told Linc that she had no family at all. When they had married in Las Vegas, she had a birth certificate from Los Angeles, but her parents' first names were very common, as was her last name, Martin. When as her former business partner, Christian had recommended that she make a will, if only to disperse money to her various charities, she had only said that she would think about it.

Considering that Christian had recently gifted the entire salon business to her, which is an extremely lucrative business, she is worth quite a large sum of money. Her lawyers have been looking for and blood relatives, but so far have come up empty. Several days ago, they disclosed this information to the press, hoping that someone would come forward. There is a catch however.

Anyone who claims to be a blood relative to Elena Lincoln must prove it by undergoing a DNA test. So far, there have been no takers. There is only one other person who is eligible to inherit, her ex-husband Linc. There is an interesting little clause that was hidden in the divorce decree. If one of them fails to marry and pre-deceases the other, the other gets everything, unless there is another blood relative to inherit. Carrick thinks that this was added to cover any children, legitimate or illegitimate of the deceased.

Since Linc knew that Elena had no children and intended to have no children _and _that she had claimed to have no family, this clause was primarily for his benefit. On the other hand, it is entirely possible that he has an illegitimate child somewhere or that he might still have one. It is quite interesting that neither ex-spouse married. But that may also have been an unspoken agreement they had when they divorced. There is no way to know now, as Linc will never tell.

However, knowing this, it would have given Linc a very solid motive for killing her. How he would have gotten the money to hire the hit is still a mystery. Hit men are not known for accepting IOUs. In their desperation, the police even questioned Christian's younger sister, Mia.

We met Mia once and she was rather coldly polite to us. Having met her, it is impossible to think that the girl was capable or either killing Elena or putting out a hit on her. She is one of the flightiest young women that I have ever met. And she is more immature than my oldest daughter, Sarah, who will be fifteen in a couple of months. Carrick told me that he thought that the cops were throwing a bone to the press.

While he was not pleased to see his daughter used in this way, he was glad that it happened because it gave her a wake up call. He and Grace had spoiled her dreadfully, and compared with Ana and Kate, who are both the same age, she is extremely childish and highly impulsive. He is hopeful that she will settle into her college career and find some direction for her life.

Christian and Ana have moved to the new house and are very comfortable there. They had taken us over to see it before Christmas, at which point all of the renovations were complete and they were busy bringing in the furniture. Ana has furnished it in a simple Mediterranean style, full of sunshine and light. Christian has promised that in the spring, they will invite us for a long weekend and then he can keep his promise to the girls to take them out on his boat.

Ana has even furnished one of the guest rooms with three beds for the girls. She is very thoughtful that way. In addition to making a nursery for the baby, she has also made one of the guest rooms into a bedroom for her father for when he comes to visit. It is obvious that she cares for him very much and is looking forward to seeing more of him.

An interesting dynamic has evolved between Carrick and myself. We have begun to refer to Christian as "our son." We are both determined to take care of him and make sure that everything goes smoothly for him now that he is finally settling into a normal family. It is everything that Carrick has ever wanted for his son, and certainly what's would have wanted for him, had I raised him. Looking back at all of the sorrow and anguish that they have felt over the years for that very damaged little boy whom they adopted, I would never begrudge them the right to be called Mother and Father by him.

I often think back to those days after high school, when if I had known about him, perhaps Ella and I could have married and raised him ourselves. I could have saved both of them from that wretched life that she fell into. But what would have happened to my college career? Could I have really supported them? Ella and I were both so young. Would we have been able to sustain the kind of love needed to make a marriage successful?

Then, I think back to that time after college when, if I had known of his existence, I would have taken him then. But would that have been the best thing for Christian? Could I have provided the love and support that he needed as a special needs child all by myself? Was I ready for any kind of parenting at that point in my life? Would I have made his problems even worse?

And I have seen for myself, that despite his terrible years as a young child and then the awful treatment that he received at the hands of that woman, Grace and Carrick were the ones who were best suited for raising him. I am simply grateful that now he is allowing me to share a small piece of his life. I would do anything for him to keep him safe.

Perhaps I failed him when he was a small child, but I shall not do so forward

I suppose that I am lucky that we share so many common interests and have grown into similar types of men. I am hopeful that we can develop a friendship that will not interfere with his relationship with his adoptive family. Our wives are certainly friends and I believe that the girls will come to like him as my friend rather than my son.

I am looking forward to the trip to Aspen and hope that in the future I will be able to reciprocate with a trip to Tahoe. I am just hoping that this situation with Elena Lincoln's murder will resolve itself so that we can all move on with our lives.

**Do you want the story to resolve before or after Aspen and Las Vegas trips? Feedback please.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 7**

**Clark**

At last, I've got a real break in the case. The Mia Grey suspect angle did not pan out, but I didn't expect it to. It bought me some time to explore other avenues and it kept the press busy for a while. I am still of the opinion that despite the recent rift in the relationship between Lincoln and the Grey family, none of them felt strongly enough about her to kill her. I think that it also gave the ex-husband a feeling of security that if I was pursuing other leads, his ass might be out of the fire. Fat chance.

The Linc Lincoln angle on the other hand has been very useful with regard to providing the kind of background information that might be useful for constructing a real case. Unfortunately, like the other angle, it is no more than a circumstantial case. And the DA doesn't like cases based on circumstantial evidence. In this case, he has no concrete evidence whatsoever to go on. However, Lincoln had a lot of motive to kill his ex.

I went back to Christian Grey to discuss the matter of his breaking up of the Lincoln Timber company. The guy is richer than Midas and has no need for the nice profit he made. The move cost a lot of innocent people their jobs and from what I have been told, this is not his usual MO. He may ruthless, but he's not considered vicious.

No, this take over was about revenge pure and simple. I knew that it had to be personal. His explanation floored me because I had no idea that his security people were so good, better, I hate to admit, than our investigative unit. Of course, they've got a much larger budget and the ability to hire expertise that we don't have. In fact, a lot of his people are ex-FBI and ex-military.

It turns out that Grey's guy Welch was somehow able to discover that Linc Lincoln had posted bail for Jack Hyde. I knew when the judge granted that million dollar bond that it was a mistake. Sleaze like Hyde are always able to find a way to slide though the cracks in the system. What makes that move strange is that I have been able to uncover no previous contact or relationship between Lincoln and Hyde. However, the common denominator is Grey. They both hate him.

Lincoln posted bail with full knowledge of the charges and pending investigations against Hyde. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Hyde had a huge vendetta going on against Christian and all of the other Greys and that he was particularly pissed at Ana Grey. In fact he was so obsessed by Christian Grey that letting him out of custody virtually insured that he would go after one or more of the Greys again.

Lincoln lost his money on the deal. but at the time it didn't seem to bother him that Hyde had kidnapped one woman and nearly killed a second one and her unborn child. Lincoln is one cold son of a bitch. If I had known that _he _had posted bail, I would have put a watch on him.

It is obvious to me that he has his own personal vendetta against Christian Grey, especially now. But I am sure that it predated him posting bail for Hyde. I have not been able to make out the full story on the divorce, but seeing how Lincoln acted in such a vicious way against Grey for no apparent reason, I can definitely see how he would order the cold-blooded killing of his ex, if he had a reason. I suspect that Grey has some kind of link to that mess, but so far I have not been able to uncover it.

It makes sense that Grey would have exacted his own revenge for him posting bail by destroying Lincoln's company. He had a good deal of shares in the publicly traded company that he folded into his own company. He never gave me a good reason as to why he had them, but I am thinking that it had something to do with the divorce, simply because he acquired them around that time.

Grey never gives much away and for the moment I don't want to press him. That is one line of communication that I need to keep open. Grey may not have committed the murder, but if I can establish the link between him and the Lincolns, I believe that I will finally be able to crack the case.

As of now, it looks as though Lincoln is going to be the heir to his ex-wife's fortune. Naturally, the press is crucifying him and doing some digging of their own. I am at the point where I would be happy if they would uncover something, but right now all they have come up with is a conspiracy theory that, like Elvis, she is not really dead or she was killed by alien invaders.

Since there was absolutely no physical evidence anywhere at the crime scene. My last hope is that someone will talk to someone and word will come to light about a hit. I just can't believe that deafening silence out there about the crime other than speculative gossip. Normally, there is at least one person who knows something that cannot keep their mouth shut.

My last effort will be to try to convince the DA to swear out an arrest warrant for Linc Lincoln based on the circumstantial evidence. Maybe a night or two in the slammer will loosen up his lips. Then he won't be so circumspect about coming up with the finer points of his divorce and the cause of his irrational vendetta against Grey.

I would almost like to put Lincoln away and throw away the key, just based on principle. That guy is a slime ball from the word go. To be perfectly honest, I think that Linc and Elena Lincoln richly deserved each other. I would hate to see him profit from this crime, especially since it might set an example for other creeps out there who might try to pull the same stunt. No, I'm convinced that Lincoln is my man. Now I just have to figure out a way to prove it.

**Christian**

The move to the new house has been accomplished with the least amount of disruption to my life. I know that Ana is pleased to be finally living in our new home. Every detail of the design of the house has been perfectly executed by Elliot. Although she may have loathed Gia, the woman did do a splendid job with the plans for the renovation, from the glass wall in the back to the chef's kitchen that she and Gail designed.

I am also pleased because now that we have our own indoor gym and pool, Ana can work out in the comfort and privacy of home. Even on days when she may not wish to leave the house, she will still be able to get a brief swim or walk on the treadmill. She also enjoys the distance that the commute gives her from her job. She likes to relax on the way back and forth to the city and, as she puts it, change her mindset. Unlike myself, she really does not like to bring her work home. Of course, now that she is pregnant she is falling asleep much earlier in the evening.

She does get more tired after a day at work. I am reliably told that this is a normal part of pregnancy and nothing for me to worry about, the subtext being: don't bother Dr. Greene with it. And I know that after the baby is born, once she goes back to work, all of her attention will be focused on him when she gets home. We are still discussing the issue of whether or not we should hire a nanny to live in.

Ana feels that she would rather have someone come in five days a week during the day so that she will have care of the child during the evenings and weekends. However, since we often have engagements in the evenings and on weekends, I feel that someone who is a live in would be better to pick up those extra babysitting duties. Of course once I mentioned our busy social calendar, Ana got that stubborn look of hers on her face that told me that she was not going to go along with that without a fight. She wants to spend every spare minute with the baby.

Once again, I suggested that she consider taking a longer leave from the job than she was planning, perhaps as long as a year. This was met with stony silence. On the advice of my mother, I have decided to let it go for now. Mom says that her perspective would most likely change once the baby is born and she would have a more definitive idea of what kind of parent she wants to be.

She has of course spoken with Mom about being a working mother, but Mom was very up front in telling her that she never had to care for a newborn. Mia was six months old when she was adopted and Mom took the usual time for adoptive leave (three months). Being that she is the owner of the company, Ana can take as much leave as she likes. And there is the possibility of working from home a couple of days a week.

It is all giving us a new perspective on working mothers, and I suspect that within a year or two there maybe day care centers at both Grey House and Grey Publishing. I have to admit that this would not be a bad thing. I have lost a number of excellent female employees who had a baby and then didn't want to leave them at home. Of course any day care center run by Grey Holdings would be state of the art and free. When I do something, I do it right. Especially when it involves keeping topnotch employees happy.

Ana and I have not had any major arguments since before the Jack Hyde attack. We have had a few squabbles, but nothing anywhere near as big as some of the blow ups that we had during the first three months of our relationship. I realize now that this is because of our more open communication, not to mention the complete absence of Elena from our lives.

Moving from the city has been better for me than I had expected. I have to admit that the commute is not as tiresome as I thought that it would be. I use the time for my usual rounds of phone calls and emails. And I find myself relaxing each evening as I step out of the SUV and into our own private paradise on the Sound. It is much quieter than the city, and the grounds have a real serenity to them. I am looking forward to the warm weather when we can have a few of those picnics that Ana is planning.

I am also looking forward to our upcoming weekend in Aspen. In fact, I have decided that Ana and I will spend the entire week there. Life in Seattle is tiresome with the constant gossip and "breaking news stories" about Elena's murder. And even though, Clark knows that I had nothing to do with the crime, he is trying to draw some kind of connection between Linc, Elena, and myself.

The only people who know the true story behind their divorce, that her affair with me was the cause of the marriage break up, are Mom and Dad. Even Mia and Elliot have not figured that out. Luckily, word of the affair has not gotten out. While it certainly would not make me a suspect, it would certainly create a scandal that would reverberate through the press. I do not want that kind of publicity for business reasons, but I know that the whole thing would devastate Ana. And that could put the baby in jeopardy.

I am still amazed that I have not only come to grips with the pregnancy, I have found that I truly love the child who is now growing inside of my wife's body. Ana claims that every time I put my hand on her stomach, the baby moves. Dr. Greene told us that any day now, I should be able to feel him kick.

I find it difficult to believe that the baby knows who I am and that my touch is different from anyone else's, but I have read in the books that even in utero, the baby will learn to recognize my voice. Therefore, I have taken to reading to Ana's stomach each evening. Sometimes when I play the piano, Ana will sit beside me.

"Do you hear that, Blip?" she says. "Daddy is playing some Chopin for you."

The other night I told her that we should pick a name soon or when the baby is born, he will only answer to the name "Blip." Ana has suggested Theodore, after my grandfather. I am seriously considering it, because she told me that we could call him Ted for short. Ted Grey would be a good name for business. I haven't told her yet, but I would like to use Raymond, after her father, as a middle name. I like the distinguished sound of Theodore Raymond Grey.

I have a feeling that even after we pick a name, the baby will be "Blip" until he is born. Even though, Blip now has a head, arms, and legs, and we have seen and heard his heart beating, Ana still carries around the first ultra sound picture. Dr. Greene says that he is going to be a big baby. Considering Ana's small size, a Caesarian section may be in order. Naturally, that is greeted with another Anastasia Grey patented stubborn look. Greene looks at me and I shrug._ Now _she's looking for my help after shooting down my suggestions for months?

"Mrs. Grey," she says patiently. "This is only a suggestion based on the information available now, but a scheduled Caesarian birth may be much safer than a vaginal birth."

"But you're not certain," Ana replies.

"Not yet," she answered. "But we have to leave the option open."

"I want to push him out myself," she grumbles. "And I want natural childbirth."

No anesthesia! Now I know that she is nuts. But Dr. Greene doesn't comment.

"Why don't you get changed?" she says instead.

"Don't worry Mr. Grey," says Dr. Greene when we have left her alone.

"About the Caesarian?" I ask.

"About the anesthesia," she replies. "She'll probably be looking for an epidural long before she hits hard labor. She doesn't strike me as the type who had a high threshold of pain."

I smile at the thought. No, she doesn't. But at least in this context it could be beneficial.

"But what about the Caesarian?" I ask.

Greene shrugs.

"She may change her mind when she realizes how difficult it will be," she says. "I would prefer to schedule the surgery, it would be safer. But I would never endanger her life or the life of the baby. Are you going to be there?"

"Of course he is," answered Ana as she comes through the door.

I turn pale at the thought. This is one of those things that I thought was still under discussion.

"You certainly enjoyed participating in the other end of the process," she smirks. "I don't see why you would bail out on me now."

"I wish I had a dollar from every first time mother who ever said that," replies Dr. Greene.

I keep my mouth shut, knowing that I won't win this round. On the way out I stop and turn to Ana.

"I just don't know if I can stand to see you in all that pain," I say.

She looks back at me stunned and then bursts out laughing.

"You are surely joking!" she answers between giggles.

Well, okay, I know that it sounds absurd, but hell, in the playroom, I control the pain. In the delivery room, there won't be a blasted thing that I can do about it. We'll see who has the last laugh about this one.

**Gail**

After all of the hustle and bustle of moving and settling in, I am glad that Jason and I will finally be able to escape for our own long weekend in Las Vegas. The Bellagio looks like it will be a wonderful place to stay. Neither Jason nor I have any interest in gambling, however Mr. Grey has provided us with tickets to all of the best shows in town. Of course, from my perspective, the best show in town for us will be taking place in our suite.

I am not used to traveling in such style. Jason knows what to expect because of his years of guarding Mr. Grey and making all of the arrangements for his various trips. He tells me that I can expect to be pampered and cared for beyond my wildest dreams, and to enjoy it while I can. As well as Mr. Grey pays us, we will be experiencing luxury that only the richest of the rich do.

I have never really aspired to any of this kind of wealth. I remember when my first husband and I would travel when he was on his tours throughout the world. We would fly coach and then check out the local attractions wherever we were. We often stayed in the cheapest accommodations, but it never bothered us. We were there to see the sights.

As I was helping her pack for Aspen, Ana shared with me how pleased she was that they were going to see the Prices again. However, she was worried about something.

"Gail," she asked. "Do you think that it is disloyal of me to encourage Christian to develop a relationship with his biological father?"

I knew that she was referring to the Greys.

"What makes you think that you are being disloyal?" I asked in return.

She hesitated.

"Kate told me that the Greys are hurt because Christian and I are spending the weekend with them in Aspen," she finally answered. "She said that it is like we're going behind their backs or something."

"But didn't Mr. Grey choose a meeting place outside of town to save their feelings?" I asked.

"Well, that was a part of it," she replied. "But now he really wants to get out of town to get away from all of this Elena stuff. You know. It seems like every time we turn around there is some other thing being raised about it. And Detective Clark seems determined to uncover the part that Christian played in the Lincolns' divorce. Do you know about that?"

Now I feel like I am walking into a minefield, but I don't think that Ana realizes it. It is the responsibility of staff members like myself to stay invisible and "know nothing."

"Ana," I answered uncomfortably. "I do know a great deal about your personal lives, however there is an unspoken code of silence regarding that knowledge that I would prefer not to break."

Then she looked at me with her big, baby blue eyes.

"Please, Gail," she almost begged. "You are like a second mother to me. I feel like I have to talk to someone and I don't want to bother Christian with my worries. You know how he is about that. He has enough stress without taking on mine."

"Okay," I admitted reluctantly. "If you are going to put it that way, then yes, I do know of the connection that Mr. Grey had to the Lincoln divorce."

"What do you think will happen if Clark figures it out?" she asked quietly.

"Other than Mr. Grey throwing a fit of epic proportions?" I said. "I really don't know. I don't think that it has anything to do with the murder case. In fact, if Mr. Lincoln wanted to get revenge for that, it would have been more logical for him to murder Mr. Grey, not Mrs. Lincoln. Besides, the divorce happened years ago."

"But it was only recently that Christian destroyed his company," she replied. "And he told me that he had the plan in place for a while, ever since Mr. Lincoln put Elena in the hospital because of him."

"Well then, it still would have made even more sense for him to kill Mr. Grey, if the motive was revenge," I replied. "However, if he was looking for profit, then it does make sense for him to kill Mrs. Lincoln since he knew that he stood to inherit all that money from her, especially if he was broke."

Jason and I have already had this discussion. I just wish that the police would find some conclusive evidence to prove that Lincoln had the old bitch murdered. That would put an end to all of this speculation. But Jason thinks that Lincoln covered his tracks too well. He doesn't think that they will ever find anything solid enough to prove that he did it.

"That makes sense," she said slowly. "I just wish that they would leave Christian alone. And I just wish that we could go off in peace to spend time with the Prices without feeling guilty about it."

"Ana, dear," I replied with a smile. "You know that you are the one who feels guilty. Since when has Mr. Grey ever felt an ounce of guilt about something like this?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, I am breaking the code of silence again, but I presume that you won't tell," I answered.

"Of course not," she said conspiratorially.

"When Mr. Price left, he told Mr. Grey that he would make no more efforts to contact him again," I said. "Mr. Grey, of his own free will, called him on Christmas, did he not? Did you tell him too, or even suggest it?"

"No," she answered slowly. "In fact, it was a surprise to me that he called him."

"Did you suggest the trip to Aspen?" I asked.

"No," she said. "We already had planned to go, but I had no idea that he planned to ask the Prices."

"So forgive me for mentioning it, but where does your friend get the idea that you are being disloyal?" I asked logically.

She was silent for a moment. I have to admit that Kate Kavanagh is not one of my favorite people. She has a very abrasive personality and doesn't know when to quit when she begins prying into Ana's life. There are times when I think that she is even competing with Mr. Grey for little Ana's affections. And I think that she is more than a little bothered by the fact that she is no longer under her control.

"Ana," I stated firmly. "You have been nothing but a loyal and loving family member to the Greys since the beginning. You risked your life for Mia and you have made Mr. Grey happier than anyone could have imagined. Don't let Miss Kavanagh bully you into thinking otherwise."

"So then do you think that it's okay that I'm friendly to the Prices?" she asked.

"Ana, if you are unfriendly, don't you think that it would make things very difficult for Mr. Grey?" I asked. "He is feeling his way through all of this. It wasn't that long ago that he realized that you and his family loved him unconditionally. Now another family is offering him that same unconditional love and it has to be confusing. Within six months, a man who considered himself unlovable has discovered that many people do love him.

"Look at it this way. Six months ago, he was a lonely bachelor going from one meaningless, unhealthy relationship to another. He spent his days obsessed with making money and his nights attending boring charity and business functions, alone I might add.

"Now he has a loving wife and a baby on the way. He is closer to his adoptive family than he has ever been and reconnecting with his biological father and his family. He is no longer locked in that ivory tower overlooking Seattle, but is now living in a lovely, Mediterranean home overlooking the Sound. I have known him for over four years and I have never seen him so happy and content.

"Think about it. This has all happened since you entered his life. You know and understand him better than anyone, even Dr. Flynn. Just keep following your instincts and inclinations where he is concerned and don't let anyone convince you to second guess yourself."

"You really do know him well," Ana commented. "And me. How do you do it?"

"It's all part of the code of silence," I said with a smile. "I know more about the both of you than you realize, but I would never speak of it. And it's not just because I have signed a non-disclosure agreement. I am genuinely fond of both of you."

"Is Taylor?" she asked curiously.

"Why do you ask?" I frowned.

"Well," she said. "Christian thinks that Taylor does his job so well because of the fact that he pays him very well and because he is paying for Sophie's schooling. I told him that I thought that Taylor really does like him."

"Just between you and me?"

She nodded.

"Jason likes the both of you just as much as I do. He just doesn't show his feelings very well or very often," I answered honestly. "But it doesn't have anything to do with money. Believe me, you couldn't pay someone enough to put up with Mr. Grey's moods and tempers the way that Jason does."

Now she smiled.

"I told him that," she said. "I always kind of think of him as 'Uncle Taylor.' You know, he has an avuncular appeal. He has always been very kind to me in ways that he doesn't have to. But I've also been in trouble with him."

"And sometimes, you should have been," I answered. "At least since you've been pregnant, you have developed a greater desire for self-preservation. Since the Jack Hyde nightmare you have been a lot more cooperative in your security."

"I guess that was my wake up call," she admitted ruefully. "It was the first time that I realized that Christian had a real reason for being so overprotective. I don't think that I could have forgiven myself if anything had happened to the baby."

"Neither would Mr. Grey, forgiven himself that is" I added. "Jason told me that he was beside himself when he saw you lying there on the ground. His first thought was of your life, his second for the baby's. I suspect that it was the first time that he acknowledged to himself that this was a real, live baby, his very own child. When the EMTs arrived, he begged them to save both of you. The first thing that he told them was that you were pregnant and needed special care."

"I know that," she replied. "He was very relieved to find out that the baby was well. I have a vague memory of the conversation from when I was unconscious. But you had told me not to worry anyway. You told me that he would come around and that he just needed some time to get used to the idea."

"Well, as I said, I know you both very well," I said. "And Jason and I aren't going anywhere, anytime soon. I promise. Other than Las Vegas to get married that is."

"Christian wanted to take me to Las Vegas to get married," she said wistfully. "It would have been very romantic. But our families would have been very disappointed."

"Well, being that this is the second time around for both of us," I said. "We get to pick. And neither of us are close enough to our families for them to care. My wN sister is just happy that we will no longer be living in sin."

"Did you have a big wedding, Gail?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, yes," I replied. "I was about your age and it was very exciting to be marrying a naval officer. He wore his dress whites and we walked out of the chapel under the crossed swords. You know the old tradition."

"Oh, yes," she replied. "I've heard of it. I'm sorry that we won't see you for a whole week after."

"Well, no offense," I replied. "But it will be nice for Jason and I to have some time alone when we get back. I am grateful that Mr. Grey is willing to stick with Sawyer and Ryan as his close security for the whole week."

"He figured as much," she replied. "Giving you time alone was his idea. Maybe he's going a little soft in his old age."

We looked at each other and laugh. Christian Grey will never grow soft at any age. However, he is not the hard ass that he likes to project that he is. But that is a side to that very complex man that very few people have ever seen.

**Price**

I am rather surprised at how anxious I am for our upcoming weekend in Aspen with Christian and Ana. I am not sure of what I am expecting from it. I only know that when I said good bye to my son almost a month ago, I didn't know if I would ever see him again. The phone call and invitation on Christmas were two of the best surprises that I have had since I learned that I had a son.

However, I have just had another surprise. Melissa has discovered that after years of trying, she is pregnant again. In fact, she is due two months after Ana. We were initially concerned because she is over forty, but the doctor has assured us that many women have healthy babies in their forties and this is her fourth child. Once again, we are hopeful that it will be a boy, but we are not getting our hopes up too high. We love each of our girls, and one more will be just as great a blessing.

We have told the girls of course, followed by Melissa's parents. I am wondering when we should tell Christian. I am hoping that the opportunity will arise while we are at Aspen. Melissa thinks that it would be a good idea to wait until after the trip. That way we will have a better gauge for the direction of that relationship. When we last saw him, we were on fairly good terms. But a lot has happened since then.

The girls are also looking forward to going to Aspen. It is one of those few places that a lot of their friends have been to, but they haven't. With the house in Lake Tahoe we haven't really had a need to find another place to ski. And all of them are great skiers. They were all fascinated by Christian when we went to visit him. For one thing, they could to understand why he had such a large penthouse if only he and his wife lived there.

They were impressed by the size of everything and all of the artwork in the great room. I think that they were also a mystified by the large "command and control" center for his security staff. I must admit that it is impressive, but even I don't have anything like it on the ranch. I also don't have security staff following my wife and children everywhere they go.

I hated to have to explain to them that Christian was very nervous about security because a very bad man had tried to harm him and his wife. When she heard that, of course Sarah had to run and do some Internet research where she found all of the stories about Jack Hyde and his many attempts on the lives of the Greys. It was the first time that she had ever realized that very wealthy people can be vulnerable to such attacks.

And of course, she picked up on the story of how Hyde and Christian had briefly shared a foster home in Michigan. It was the first real view that she had of Christian as more than just one of the wealthiest men in the United States and prompted some very difficult questions for me. When we told the girls about their much older brother, we had skimmed over the details of his terrible early years. Now she wanted to know everything.

"Daddy," she said seriously, one night after dinner. "Why didn't you know that Christian's mother was pregnant?"

"Well, honey," I replied, taking a deep breath. "Ella left town and I didn't know what happened to her."

"Didn't you look for her?" she asked.

"I didn't really know what to do," I tried to explain. "I as only a high school kid."

"What happened when she disappeared?" she asked.

"Well, Sarah, I think that you are old enough to understand this, but I don't think that your sisters are ready to hear it," I answered seriously.

"I promise, Daddy," she replied. "I won't tell them if you don't want me to."

"When Ella left town, she went to Detroit," I said, taking a deep breath. "Initially, she found people who helped her to have the baby because she didn't want to have an abortion or give the baby up for adoption. But she got tricked into becoming a prostitute and then got addicted to crack. She wasn't really able to take care of Christian and her pimp beat up both her and Christian.

"Then, one day she overdosed and died. It took them four days to find her and all that time Christian was alone with her body. When the police finally found them, they took Christian to the emergency room where Dr. Grace treated him. She felt so sorry for him that she and Mr. Grey adopted him when he was four years old."

"That's very sad," commented Sarah. "Is that why Christian is so scared that someone is going to hurt him and Ana?"

"I think that that is part of it," I said honestly. "For a couple of months while they were looking to see if Christian had any family, he lived with a very nice foster family. But that man Jack Hyde was a child who lived there too. For some reason he was mad that he wasn't adopted by the Greys as well. We think that that was why he wanted to hurt him."

"Daddy, when they were looking for Christian's family, why didn't they find you?" She asked.

"They didn't really know where to look," I answered. "I was up in Traverse City, but they didn't know that that was where Ella came from. And she didn't put my name on the birth certificate."

"Are you mad that the Greys adopted him?" she asked bluntly.

Boy, was this getting tough. But there was really only one answer that I could give her.

"No, honey, I'm not," I replied. "In fact, I'm glad they adopted him. It is hard for older children to be adopted and Christian wasn't able to talk. Whoever adopted him was going to have to give him lots of special love and attention. I hate to admit it, but at that time, the Greys were much better able to do that than I was. I am very glad that it _was _them who adopted him. They gave him all the love and care that he needed."

"Daddy, will you get mad at me if I say that he doesn't actually feel like a real brother?" she asked, almost fearfully.

"Why is that?" I asked curiously.

"Well, I just don't know him," she answered. "I mean he seems like a nice guy and all, but he's so much older than us. And he didn't grow up with us, you know? But if the new baby is a boy, then he will feel like a brother because he will always live with us. But Christian is just . . . well, not like a brother."

"Well, Sarah," I reply. "One of the reasons that we are all going to Aspen is so that we can get to know each other better. In fact, I think that that is why Christian invited us. And it's okay if he doesn't feel like a brother to you. I have a feeling that you three don't really feel like sisters to him."

"He already has a sister, doesn't he?" she asked.

"Yes, Mia."

"I don't think that Mia liked us much," she remarked.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Well, she was always making faces and rolling her eyes whenever we talked," she said candidly. "And she was rude to Emily when she asked her a question. Then, after dinner, she went to her room without saying good night. If that had been one of us, you and Mommy would have been mad."

"I'm sure that Dr. Grace spoke with her later," I said, even though I couldn't say for sure. "She probably didn't want to embarrass her in front of company."

"Okay, that makes sense," she nodded. "Thank you for talking to me, Daddy."

"Anytime, dear, anytime," I replied, absently.

She gave me a hug and I realized that Sarah will actually be closer in age to Christian than to the new baby, whether it's a him or a her. The age spread between Katie and the baby will be a full eleven years. That is nearly a whole generation. On the other hand, Christian's son will be a mere two months older than my youngest child.

As Sarah walked up the stairs, I looked and was amazed at how tall and grown up she was becoming, almost a young lady. In fact, in a couple of months she will be fifteen. Then I thought of Christian at fifteen, only a little older than Sarah. It made me ill to think of what that pedophile whore had done to him. I can only feel happy that she had gotten what she deserved.

Elena Lincoln's murder has created quite a stir around Seattle, but Christian seems oblivious to the conflict going on around him. The only thing that really bothered him was when Detective Clark interviewed Mia for making idiotic threats against the woman. However, that seems to have all died down. All of the focus now is on Linc Lincoln. I am hoping that it stays there.

If nothing else, Lincoln deserves to be punished for the actions that led to Ana almost being killed. But unfortunately in that case, he did nothing illegal. There was nothing to stop him from posting bail and there was no way to contest his statement that he had no idea of what Hyde was capable of doing. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than seeing that man locked up for life. It's a great pity that there is no evidence that he committed the crime.


	9. Chapter 8

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 8**

**Flynn**

It is not for the first time that I am relieved that Christian Grey is going away on a vacation, and this time for a whole week. The holiday season is always very stressful for people with psychological issues and with all that has recently gone on in Christian's life it was twice as stressful for him.

Not surprisingly, he has been very anxious since he met his biological father. I believe that it would have been much easier for him if he had been some lowlife who had abandoned him and his mother to the vagaries of street life. Instead, Chris Price is an extremely decent man who had fallen into the same kind of trouble as many other teenagers. But sadly, he never knew it.

I admire the restraint that Price has shown in dealing with his long lost son. It must have been very tempting for him to try to come in and overwhelm him with efforts to develop a close relationship and make up for lost time. Instead, he simply expressed a desire for a relationship on whatever terms Christian set and then allowed things to evolve from there.

I don't know how much he knew of Christian beforehand, but being the control freak that he is, this was the only way to approach him. His willingness to hand over absolute control of the parameters, at perhaps the expense of his own feelings was, in and of itself, a courageous and loving act. He is very lucky that Christian is in a place right now that, with my guidance, he was able to discern these elements of the offer.

Christian has also, through his relationship with Ana, learned to adapt his mindset to new information. It is emotionally healthy, and a sign of his growing maturity that he no longer refers to his biological parents as the crack whore and the sperm donor. Those labels were part of his defense mechanism and a symptom of his adolescent emotional state. It has been greatly beneficial for him to be able to replace those two dimensional cartoon characters with three dimensional imperfect, but not irredeemable human beings.

Discovery the authentic humanity in his birth parents, has helped him on his journey to uncovering it in himself. It is no longer possible for him to hate them. They are real to him. Thus it makes easier for him to escape from his own cycle of self-destructive cycle of self-loathing. His next step in the process will be to accept that his adoptive family is not perfect. He will not fully connect with them until he realizes that like his birth parents, they are also fully human.

Like any adolescent, he is working on changing his value judgments from black and white to shades of gray. It is frustrating for those around him, because his responses to threats to his very judgmental positions are so extreme. He is also still in a phase, quite ironically, of testing limits and boundaries. Elena Lincoln may have taught him to do this with pain and pleasure, physically and sexually, but in giving him this "outlet," as he calls it, she stunted his emotional growth.

The irony is that it was she who started off this whole process. In the beginning, she was attempting to cause trouble and sow seeds of discord between Christian and his adoptive parents. The press leak was a cruel twist, but she had no idea that in taking on Chris Price, she was doing battle with someone who has a very strong will and character. And his people are almost as good at tracking down information as Christian's.

In the case of the press leak, she did not cover her tracks as neatly as she had when she hired McBride. Of course, we will never know for sure if she hired him, however, it is the only logical conclusion, since she was the source of the leak. How else could she have known?

The damage that she wrought still lingers. We see it every time Christian resorts to one of his "swearing sprees" when faced with frustration. Having been subjected to a number of these onslaughts over the years, I look forward to the day when his language reflects that of a CEO, rather than a truck driver.

However, even in death, I can see lingering danger from his relationship with her. He believes that his family is fooled as to the nature of their affair because her ex-husband Linc has told the police that there was no such "dungeon" as they found in her own in the one that they shared. He is also claiming no knowledge of her predilections such as they were. Ergo, this became her sexual activity of choice _after _the divorce and _after _her affair with Christian.

This of course is nonsense to anyone who knows anything about these sexual sadistic tendencies. The only one, who I suspect knows this, is Carrick. Grace would never want to think such a thing could happen to her son. And I have the truth from Christian. She may not have had a dungeon, but she had many of the "toys" and other accoutrements of the lifestyle very effectively hidden from her husband. For any practices that required the special equipment, they were able to go to clubs in the area.

It was in these clubs that Christian later learned to become a Dom, complete with pseudonym and the effective disguise of a full head mask covering both his face and hair. Elena had one of her own, and this was the one that she wore to the masked ball that the Greys held last spring. Such a mask was so effective that she even escaped detection by Christian. And it was absolutely necessary for him since his hair is such a distinctive shade of red.

It was how he has been able to operate for all of these years in the more normal, respectable business world without being "outed" by a random fellow BDSM participant. Naturally, such anonymity was also required for Elena. I am somewhat surprised that none of the fifteen "subs" have come forward to the press in spite of the NDAs they signed.

However, the press would have a field day if they were to discover the fact that it was her affair with Christian that ultimately broke up Elena's marriage. There is also the detail that Lincoln's vendetta against Christian was based on this, as was Christian's payback by breaking up his company. If Lincoln is charged with Elena's murder, even based on circumstantial evidence, it is entirely possible that he will tell this to the police and worse yet, the press.

Everyone is playing a very dangerous game now with that man. He will no doubt inherit his wife's estate, which would keep him away from the Christian. His fortunes would be restored. He could, with very little trouble, sell her very profitable business to the highest bidder and retire in the style to which he is accustomed. If he were to have killed his ex-wife the motive of revenge is only clear if one understands that ultimately it was she who was responsible for Christian's ability to destroy the timber business.

Christian has told me that he began to accumulate the shares of Lincoln Timber after Linc put Elena in the hospital. He was always afraid that sooner or later Lincoln would come after him because it is not in his nature to forgive and forget. Nor is it in Christian's nature. I just hope that his impulsive action does not come back to haunt him.

Being outed as a former Dom would be highly embarrassing, especially since he is happily married and now considered a solid family man rather Han an enigmatic bachelor. Such a salacious story would create a press feeding frenzy of epic proportions. His life and that of his family, both his families would be a misery. The press would be out to hunt any former subs offering big bucks to tell their stories.

This kind of publicity would be certain to derail his fragile emotional progress. But it doesn't have to happen. There is no concrete evidence to connect Lincoln to the crime and the police won't find any. The question that remains is whether Detective Clark will let this turn into a cold case or will he put Lincoln in a position where he feels forced to play his hand to protect himself.

Yes, I am glad that Christian is presently out of town, and hopefully building a new relationship with his biological father. Studies have shown that adolescents have the greatest chance of successfully negotiating the treacherous waters of that phase of life if they have many positive relationships in their lives to help them along. A solid, meaningful relationship with his biological father can only benefit Christian in the long run.

**Christian**

Even as the jet is hurtling down the runway, I am still questioning the wisdom of spending this long weekend with my biological father and his family. It was Flynn's idea of course. He has been listening to me agonize over the revelation of about one month ago when suddenly the bottom dropped out of my very stable world. I have finally realized that the kind of control and stability in my life is nothing more than an illusion that I create to cope with my inner demons.

I thought that Elena was the best thing that ever happened to me because she took all control of my life away from me. Her incentive program was a hedonistic mix of pain and pleasure. She tamed my rebellious and self-destructive nature with her beatings and rewarded my successes by offering me sex in infinite variety. I thought that she gained pleasure from my growing strength, but the reality was that her pleasure came from my subjugation.

It has only been since I have learned to make love to Ana that I have I discovered the true nature of fucking Elena. When I enter Ana, it is as if I am finding a sanctuary from my inner fears and demons. Within her, I am protected, I am safe. And now within her grows our child, the product of our love. As I watch her growing belly, I am more and more aware of this tremendous gift that she is giving me.

I can feel the anxiety that she always has at take offs and landings through her finger tips that clutch my hand for safety. With my other hand, I reach out and gently, protectively cover her stomach, where, she tells me, our child is shifting. With lift off, I can feel her relax as she sighs audibly. I lean over and kiss her hair and when it is permitted, I unbuckle her seat belt, knowing that the band is uncomfortable around her waist. I must talk to Stephan about getting an extension for it so that she can fly more comfortably.

I would do anything for my Ana, my sweet, loving, and giving Ana, the woman who taught me how to make love, who taught me how to give love, who taught me how to love myself. And she freed me of the devouring bitch whose influence had held me in a perpetual state of adolescence.

It was Flynn who figured it out first. But I refused to believe that Elena was anything other than a force for good in my life. He tried to tell me that the sex that she offered me, far from taming my demons had called them forth. There was never anything beautiful in the act for us. She needed the hard, driving force and the powerful orgasms that she taught me to give her. It was her release, her physical pleasure that mattered, not mine.

It was probably why she had respected my boundaries with regard to touch. She had never felt any inclination to comfort or sooth. From the beginning, Ana wanted to touch me to demonstrate her love for me. But what did I know of such tactile demonstrations? I had never allowed my own parents to touch me, to hold me. What was touch to me but harsh and painful?

Did my birth mother ever hold me and cuddle me as mothers are inclined to do? If she did, I have no memory of it. My only memories are of an indifferent crack whore, too stoned to protect me from the evil man who beat the shit out of me and abused me in unspeakable ways. Elena's touch, of the cane, the lash, the paddle was of the same nature. It was the pain that I richly deserved for being such a little shit.

Her cunt was merely an orifice that sucked me dry for her pleasure and hers alone. And when I became a Dom, I reversed the process. My subs were no more than empty receptacles to be filled for _my _pleasure. They were to be beaten for _my _pleasure. They were to take the punishment that the crack whore should have gotten from me. And being the masochists that they were, they took the pain willingly.

But then Ana came along and refused to take the pain. I beat her with a belt and she ran away, screaming that I was a sick bastard and she would not let me use her body as a whipping post.

"You need to sort out your shit, Grey!"

Those words reverberated in my consciousness over and over. And it was then that I finally turned to Flynn and admitted that I had shit that need to be sorted out. I had had a taste of the "more" that Ana had offered me. She had tantalized me with her spunky response to my verbal assaults. She had challenged my rigid views of female relationships. Somehow, in her charm and innocence, she had crossed the boundaries that I had erected so carefully around my emotional world.

She had gotten under my skin and burrowed into my soul. I was lost without her. Flynn told me in no uncertain terms that unless I changed, I was never going to be able to have her. She would never let me beat her again and unless I could overcome that compulsion, I would lose her. If I wanted her, then I must be worthy of her. I must overcome my nagging fear that I did not deserve her. I had to decide that I _was _capable of being worthy of her and that I could deserve her love.

This first baby step towards the light made me realize that if I was worthy of Ana's love, then perhaps I was worthy of my mother's love, and my father's, and my brother's, and my sister's. The next step in my evolution of self has been discovering my biological father and the fact that he is not the asshole that I always thought that he was. But more than that, I learned that my birth mother, Ella, was not always a crack whore.

Looking at her through Chris's eyes made me realize that in her own messed up way, she had loved me. I had not been born unworthy of love. I had been born as the result of a teenage summer romance. My mother had been a fragile girl, filled with self-doubt and love for a boy who had let her down. My father had deep regrets for the choices that he had made that had resulted, ultimately, in her death.

I think that it makes a great difference to a child, whether he feels wanted and loved from the beginning. And that has made me view my own child differently. It is not only that my child will want for nothing materially, he is never going to doubt that he is both loved and wanted by his parents. He will never know the self-loathing that one develops because the only touch he knows and can tolerate is painful.

"Christian," says Ana suddenly, breaking into my reverie. "Why did you decide to invite Chris and his family to Aspen with us?"

I knew that sooner or later she would ask this question. In fact, knowing her insatiable curiosity about everything that I think and do, I am surprised that she hasn't asked before.

"I'm still not sure myself," I respond. "It was Flynn's idea. He thought that I still had some unfinished business with him. And I guess I do. Besides, I had kind of promised the girls, hadn't I?"

"You promised them a boat ride," she says. "I don't recall a trip to Aspen. But still, I hadn't realized that you cared about them so much. Forgive me if I am mistaken, but I got the distinct impression that you were pretty happy that Chris was out of our life when he left last month."

"You know, I'm not sure about that or anything else anymore, related to him that is," I try to explain. "I don't know why I decided to call him on Christmas. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And then when we were on the phone, I thought that maybe I should see him again. And the house in Aspen is kind of neutral ground."

"Kind of," she says uncertainly. "Have you discussed your impulsive actions with Flynn?"

"You know that I have," I reply. "Of course he started to go on about how it was some kind of subliminal desire to see him again. I don't know. I mean, it's not like he feels like my father or anything. But it sort of feels like he holds the key to a missing part of myself. It's not just about him. I guess that I'm still looking for some affirmation that my birth mother loved me, that I was worth loving."

Ana sighs.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I love you, Blip loves you, and your whole family loves you, before you believe it?"

"I know," I answer. "But just think of how many times I have heard the pimp's voice when I was a kid, in my nightmares, and even when I was awake, calling my mother a fucked up bitch and me a little shit. It was like brainwashing or something."

"Do you still hear it?" she asks. "Do you still have the nightmares?"

"Not in a long time," I say. "Not since we made up after the Hyde thing. But sometimes when I am in a situation where I start to feel insecure or doubtful, I think that I hear it."

"Have you discussed it with Flynn?" she asks.

"Yes," I answer. "But he thinks that in time it will fade. He also said that my biological father might lay some of those ghosts to rest. I mean, knowing that my father was really a very good and decent man may help dispel the idea that I have always had that I was genetically screwed up or something."

"You are Chris are really very much alike," she comments. "Even though he didn't raise you. That must tell you something about your genes not being somehow defective."

"I know," I say. "And maybe that's why I want to see him again, you know? I want to reassure myself that he is as normal as he seemed a month ago. Then, well, then maybe I can move on."

"Do you want to move on?" she asks.

"I want to be a good Dad, like he is to his three girls," I say. "But I really don't know anything beyond that. It's funny, but even though Carrick has always been a great Dad to me, I don't feel like I can learn to be a good Dad from him. Maybe it's because I always thought that he was too good to be my Dad. I felt like I didn't deserve him. He's just always seemed so perfect."

"And Chris is not?" she wonders.

"Not to me," I reply. "But to his girls he is. I'm just so confused. In fact, I haven't felt this confused since the first time you told me that you loved me."

"I remember that," she smiles. "But you got over it."

"Yes, I did," I say with a smile.

Ana yawns and then cuddles into my shoulder. I put my arm around her and snuggle her in close. And as I do, I feel two very precious lives in my arms. In that moment, I feel sorry for Chris because he never had the chance to feel the same way about my mother and me. I am beginning to understand why he feels so strongly about me. The feeling is unsettling, but it's also rather nice.

**Gail**

I was very happy to to say goodbye to Mr. And Mrs. Grey so that Jason and I could finally have a _whole weekend _away from home and by ourselves. And I had never imagined that traveling in first class could be so luxurious. It was nice to have someone waiting on me for a change, anticipating my needs, and insuring my comfort. I remember when my first husband and I would board the plane and walk past the first class passengers already seated in their large, comfortable seats and sipping cocktails. I never thought that some day it would be me.

It felt so pleasant and natural to walk through the airport, holding Jason's hand and then sitting in the first class lounge with his arm casually draped over my shoulders. He was visibly relaxed, knowing that Grey and Ana were safely flying on their own plane with Stephan at the helm and with Sawyer and Ryan there for security. Once they hit US airspace, Jason turned full control of their security over to Sawyer and his full attention to me.

"What are you thinking of, honey?" he asks, breaking into my thoughts.

"I am thinking about how for the first time it is really just us," I answer. "It has always seemed as though one of us was either on duty or out of the country. So much of our time alone has been up in our quarters, always ready for the call if we were needed."

"Yes, that is our life," he sighs. "Do you ever regret it? Do you ever wish that we would leave and get other jobs."

"No," I say. "I really like my job, especially now that I have Ana to look after. And I am looking forward to the baby coming. Even though I am sure that Mr. Grey is going to drive me crazy with every specialized diet he reads about."

"Mrs. Grey is planning to nurse, isn't she?" he asks.

"Yes," I answer. "But Mr. Grey has already been reading books on nursing and what the best diet is for a nursing mother. It's amazing that he has time to run his business."

"Well, he doesn't need much sleep," replies Jason with a smile. "That's a good thing because the bassinet will be in their bedroom for the first couple of months so he will be getting limited sleep. But if you think that you've got it bad, I have to deal with the security issue."

"What security issues?" I ask. "Won't the baby always be with Ana? And since she won't be working both Sawyer and Ryan will be at the house."

"I'm afraid that after the Jack Hyde mess, he is very paranoid about the baby being kidnapped," he answers. "In some ways, he is right to be concerned. I will be hiring some guards for the outside of the house, to watch the perimeter and the waterfront. He wants to keep all of that as low key as possible to avoid worrying Mrs. Grey, so it shouldn't be much of a problem for you."

I am silent because I hadn't thought of that and Ana hasn't mentioned it.

"What about the nanny issue?" he asks.

"It's still a stalemate," I reply. "I'm staying out of it."

"Smart girl," Jason says with a smile. "Now why don't we forget about those two crazy rich people that we work for and focus on us?"

"I thought that you would never ask," I answer with a smile of my own. "Have you ever been to Vegas?"

"I've been just about everywhere," he says. "But never as a tourist. Come to think of it, I haven't been many places as a tourist. But when I have had the odd chance to vacation, Las Vegas has never appealed to me."

"Any reason why we're going there then?" I ask.

"Well, getting married in Nevada is convenient for the obvious reasons," he explains. "My other choice was Reno and that had no appeal whatsoever. Of course we could easily have married somewhere in Washington state, but I wanted a complete change of scene. It's not much of a honeymoon for you though. Maybe sometime later I can do better."

"I am happy with the time we have," I respond. "I don't really see our relationship changing much just because we got married. But I'm glad for Sophie's sake."

"Are you really okay with all that?" he asks. "You know, being a stepmother and all?"

"Jason, I couldn't ask for a more wonderful step-daughter than Sophie," I reply. "I just wish that her mother wasn't so difficult about everything."

"Jeannine has always been difficult, well, since we married anyway," he says. "She didn't really understand what being an army wife was all about. Then she talked me into quitting and before I knew it, she had taken Sophie and moved out. She thought that if they moved to Washington state, she could get away from me. She was not pleased when I got the job with Grey."

"And she wanted to get away from you so that she could talk you into giving up custody and allowing her new husband to adopt her?" I ask.

"That was the plan," he says. "But she forgot how tenacious I am. Sophie is my child and there is no way that I am letting her go. Besides, she's too old for that. She knows who her Daddy is and Cliff is not Daddy. It displeases Jeannine that Sophie insists on calling him by his first name, but she's a pretty stubborn kid."

"Did she really tell her that if she had to call Cliff, Dad, that she would call me Mom after we got married?"

"You bet," he says proudly. "I wish that I could have been a fly on the wall. Jeannine does not like to be thwarted, but she is reluctant to really give Sophie a dressing down. In a few years, the courts will consider her old enough to choose which parent she lives with. It could be a tricky time for Jeannine if she keeps harking on my faults the way that she does."

"I'm sorry that Sophie will be your only child," I say regretfully.

"I'm not," he says firmly. "I love as you are, Gail. Don't ever feel guilty because we won't have any children. And if you really wanted a child we could always adopt. But you are the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with. Children grow up and move away, but we'll be together for the rest of our lives. Besides, I have found that there are other fringe benefits to marrying an older woman."

"The fact that I'm more mature?" I ask playfully.

"I wouldn't exactly say 'mature' in any negative sense," he replies. "You know who you are and what you want. And you're one hell of a lover in the bedroom. I know a good thing when I see it and you're beyond good, you're amazing."

Now I blush with pleasure. He's one hell of a lover too. On that score we are very well matched. Jason leans in and kisses me and then settles me comfortably under his arm.

I close my eyes and feel safe and secure in our future together.

**Melissa**

We are met at the airport in Aspen by one of Christian's security people, a man named Ryan, with an SUV. He immediately grabs our luggage and Chris helps him tie the skis and poles to the ski rack. Of course the girls have a million questions.

"Is Ryan your first name or your last name?" asks Emily.

"My last name," he says briefly.

"What is your first name?" asks Katie.

"James."

"Can we call you, James?" she asks.

"I prefer Ryan," he says formally.

"Oh, that's too bad," comments Sarah. "I wanted to say 'Home, James' like they do in the movies."

At this, we finally see a glimmer of a smile.

"What did you do before you worked for Christian?" Emily asks.

"I worked for the FBI," he replies.

"Like 'Criminal Minds'?" asks Sarah.

Again we see a glimmer of a smile.

"Not exactly," he answers.

"Oh, did you ever have any interesting cases?" asks Emily.

"Yes," he says briefly.

"Can you tell us about one?" asks Katie.

"Of course not," interrupts Sarah. "They're all top secret, right James, I mean Ryan?"

"Right."

I can see that Ryan is trying to control his laughter. Something tells me that this is the first time that he has ever had this kind of discussion since he has worked for Christian.

"How long have you been working for Christian?" asks Emily.

"I have been working for Mr. Grey for about seven months," he replies.

"Are Christian and Ana already at the house?" I ask to change he subject to something less personal.

"Yes, ma'am," he says. "They arrived earlier."

"Does Ana look any bigger?" asks Katie. "You know, because of the baby?"

"I prefer not to comment," answers poor Ryan.

"My Mommy's going to have a baby too," announces Katie. "In the summer. We're hoping that it's a boy so that we can have a real brother."

"Katie, you have such a big mouth," scolds Sarah. "You know that we're not supposed to talk about that."

"I'm sorry," answers Katie. "You won't tell on me, will you, Ryan?"

"Of course, he won't tell," interrupts Emily again, rolling her eyes. "He's ex-FBI. He's used to keeping secrets."

"Oh, yeah," says Katie. "I forgot."

"Okay, girls, the interrogation is over," says Chris firmly. "Why don't you all keep quiet and look around at the scenery? It certainly is gorgeous out here."

"Yes, it is," I agree quickly.

With that the girls turn their attention to the mountains. They move on to safer topics by asking Ryan about the village and where the ski slopes are. I can see him relaxing. I am sure that he had never experienced anything like the conversation that he just had with our three, even as an FBI agent.

As we drive out of the village and up to the mountain, I can feel Chris tensing beside me. Even though Christian freely made the invitation, I know that he is hoping that he isn't regretting it. But Christian Grey does not strike me a the kind of man who would change his mind about something like that. Besides, we have the girls around to keep things real. I believe that we are all going to have an interesting weekend.


	10. Chapter 9

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**To all my faithful readers and reviewers: thank you for your support and suggestions. Since school has restarted, you will have to expect less frequent and shorter chapters. I hope that you still enjoy!**

**Chapter 9**

**Taylor**

Landing in Las Vegas was just as smooth as take from Seattle. For once, it was I who had the driver waiting with a limo to drive us to the Bellagio. Gail has a spa appointment in an hour for something that Mrs. Grey called "the works." I plan to have a swim, sauna, and massage, but I'll be damned if anyone is going to touch my nails and hair. My Dad always said that he could never trust a man with clean fingernails. Of course, he never met Christian Grey.

After the cool damp of Seattle, the dry heat is a welcome change. I wouldn't want to come here in summer with temperatures in the hundreds, but this is pleasant. Our hotel suite has a stunning view of the city and beyond that, the desert. Gail finds it overwhelming that in addition to the bedroom, we have a large eating and living space. There are fresh flowers waiting for us, courtesy of the Greys, as well as a bottle of Bollinger. When Mr. Grey does something, he does it right.

The bathroom is, of course, enormous, with a full sized tub and jacuzzi. I can think of a few ways that we could make use of those. I suppose that all this luxury is much less of a shock to my system than hers. I have been in and out of suites like this for the past four years. But this is the stuff or magazines and televisions shows about the lives of the rich and famous.

As she looks around in astonishment, I have to make a comment.

"You look just like Mrs. Grey did the morning that she woke up in the Heathman while she was still little Anastasia Steele," I say. "You can talk to her about it when she gets back from Aspen. You know that she's going to want to hear all about it."

"I know that she will," replies Gail, relaxing a bit. "It's a lot to take in."

"Well, think about the man who lives in the biggest penthouse in Seattle and just moved into a mansion with one of the best views of the Sound," I say logically. "He stays in suites like this wherever he travels. But when you consider the poverty of his early years, it is really not so surprising."

"I wouldn't want to live like this all the time," she muses. "But I guess I can manage it for a weekend."

"Neither would I," I say. "Now why don't we get some lunch and then you can go for "the works." You know it makes you sound like a car or something."

"You're lucky that you added the 'or something,' buster," she says playfully. "You'll get to enjoy the works tonight if you're lucky."

"We're in Las Vegas," I reply. "How could I not be lucky? And remember, what happens in Las Vegas, stays in Las Vegas."

She looks at me and then smirks.

"Well, if it stays in Las Vegas," she answers. "That would be too bad for you."

I shake my head. Have we ever been able to banter together so freely? Working for the Greys means that even when we are alone, we end of spending most of our time discussing them. And neither of us dare show the least, little sign of becoming overly familiar with Mrs. Grey. Mr. Grey nearly went ballistic the one that that Mrs. Grey (then Ana) engaged in a playful chatter over the evening that she was "Mrs. Taylor." However, I believe that since Mrs. Grey has become pregnant, Gail is getting a pass on that.

She deserves it. She spends half her time worrying about Mrs. Grey. I know that their relationship is deeper than just employer-employee, but considering how Mr. Grey tended to isolate her in the early days, I think that it is only natural. Luke has told me all about their confidante and conspirator relationship that he is facilitating, as well as their "code green" drills. Since the scheme has Dr. Trevelyan's blessing, I am turning a blind eye to it.

After we eat and Gail leaves the suite for her "works" appointment, my cell phone rings. It's Flynn.

"Taylor," he says. "We may have a problem back here."

"What now?" I sigh, wondering if there will ever be a time when there is not some kind of problem.

"It's Clark," he replies. "I think that he is trying to make an arrest in the Lincoln murder case."

"Surely not Mia Grey," I answer.

"Worse," he says. "I think that he is closing on Linc."

"God damn it all," I swear. "He has no evidence on Lincoln. He has no evidence on anyone. Why can't he just leave well enough alone?"

"Because this is a high profile case and he's under a lot of pressure to make an arrest," he says.

"Why do you think it's Linc?" I ask.

"Because of the leak to press about it," he says. "If they arrest Lincoln and he decides to drag Christian's name into it, his reputation will be shot and it could set back all the progress that he's made."

"What makes you think that he will drag Grey's name into it?" I ask.

"Because he's convinced that there is some link to Christian in divorce mess that never made it into the proceedings," he replies. "I think that he is trying to connect the dots between Christian investing in Elena's business and Linc posting bail for Hyde."

"Does he know that Elena gave Grey the money to start his business?" I ask. "Or rather Linc's money?"

"That I don't know," replies Flynn.

"Where are you getting your information?" I ask.

Silence.

"I can't say," he finally admits. "Confidentiality and all that. But my information is accurate."

"Okay, I won't ask again. Have you called Carrick Grey?" I ask.

"I called him, but he hasn't called back," Flynn states. "He could be forced into doing something that he doesn't want to do, but he may not have a choice. We need to keep Christian's name out of the press at all costs."

"What do you have in mind?" I ask.

"I think that we should ask Carrick to defend Lincoln if he's charged," he answers. "We know that he's innocent, so it wouldn't be like we were asking him to knowingly defend a guilty man. And he may be a slime ball, but the last time I looked, that wasn't a crime."

"Do you have Price in the loop?" I ask.

"I know that he's in Aspen with Christian, so I've been reluctant to call him," he replies.

"I wouldn't worry about him letting anything slip," I comment. "He's a pretty cool customer and he knows how high the stakes are. It really sucks that Lincoln is going to make out from his 'inheritance,' but that's the law."

"Yes, it is," I reply. "But if by chance he was convicted of the crime, he couldn't profit from it. This is one hell of a mess."

"It's been one hell of a mess from the beginning," Flynn remarks. "Just when I thought that Christian was finally free from all the shit in his past and moving forward with a

positive self-image, all this crap has to come back to haunt him."

"Well, keep me posted," I say. "But to be perfectly honest, there is not much else that I can do. I'm in Las Vegas to be married and I don't want anything spoiled for Gail. It's the first real vacation away from Grey that we've had in the four years that we worked for him."

"I understand," he says. "I only called to keep you in the loop. I don't think that the shit is going to hit the fan for a few more days, hopefully while Christian and Ana are still Aspen."

After Flynn hangs up, I want to throw my cell phone against the wall. I am so sick of this Elena Lincoln shit that I am beginning to wish that I had killed her myself.

**Price**

Arrival at the house with the three girls is as chaotic as it always is, regardless of where we arrive. They tumble out of the SUV and Melissa barely has time to catch up with them before they reach the front door.

"Back, ladies," she says in her authoritative voice. "I want each of you to grab your own bag."

"Why can't Ryan bring them in?" asks Sarah.

"Because he's the chauffeur, not the bellhop," I reply. "You wouldn't want Christian and Ana to think that you were all spoiled brats now, would you?"

"No, sir," they answer politely.

"We can leave the ski gear on the roof," says Ryan, as he hands out the bags from the back of the car. "We can use this vehicle to drive out to the slopes."

"Are you taking us?" Emily asks.

"No," he says. "Probably Sawyer will . . . I hope."

The last two words are spoken under his breath. I can't blame him. He probably thinks that it's Sawyer's turn to get the third degree. I wonder if Taylor is here since he is the head of security.

At the door, we are greeted by Christian, who introduces the housekeeper, Mrs. Bentley, to us. She is a little baffled by the barrage of questions, mostly addressed to Christian, by the girls.

"Do we each get our own room or do we have to share?" asks Sarah immediately.

"You will all share," answers Christian.

"Where is Ana?" asks Katie.

"She's resting upstairs because she is tired," he replies.

"When is lunch?" asks Emily. "I'm hungry."

"As soon as you are settled."

"What's for lunch?" asks Katie.

"Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup," replies Mrs. Bentley.

"What kind of cheese?" asks Emily.

"You have your choice between Swiss or cheddar," she answers with a smile.

"Can we have Coke with lunch?" asks Katie hopefully.

"We don't have any soda in the house," explains Mrs. Bentley. "Mr. Grey told me to have milk and apple juice on hand for you girls."

"Do we at least get chips?" asks Sarah.

Mrs. Bentley frowns.

"Mr. Grey ordered whole wheat crackers, and whole wheat bread," she says.

"Man, Christian," complains Sarah. "You are such a party pooper."

Christian laughs.

"Sorry, Sarah," he replies. "I'm just trying to maintain my sanity. As I recall from your last visit, you girls are energetic enough without adding any sugar or refined carbs into the mix."

"That means that he thinks that we're too hyper," comments Emily.

"He's right," says Melissa. "Why don't you show us to our rooms, Christian, so that we can get the girls sorted out? The longer that we stand here, the longer it will take you to get out to the slopes."

"Mrs. Bentley," says Christian. "You go organize lunch. And, Melissa, I am sure that you are looking forward to getting the girls out of your hair for a while."

"You learn quickly," she says with a grin.

"Thank you, sir," Mrs. Bentley says in relief. "Please let me know if you need anything."

Katie opens her mouth to say something, but before she can get a word out, Melissa gives her the "don't you dare say anything else or you'll be in trouble look." As we go up the stairs, Katie is at Christian's heels.

"Do we have a jacuzzi in our bathroom?" she asks.

Christian stops, turns around and looks at me. I shrug.

"We do at our house in Tahoe," adds Emily.

Christian rolls his eyes. I have to laugh.

"No," he says. "Your room does not have a jacuzzi. But you do have a stunning view of the Rockies."

"I'd rather have a jacuzzi," grumbles Sarah.

But I have heard enough. I drop our things in Melissa's and my room, stride into the girls' room next door and close the door in Christian's very surprised face.

"That's it, do you understand?" I say sternly. "You will act like the polite young ladies that we have brought you up to be. There will be no more demands, complaints, or otherwise rude remarks. I expect that you will be more respectful to the security men. Their job is hard enough without you hassling them."

"We weren't rude to Ryan, really," answers Sarah. "He thought that we were funny, sort of."

"Well, let's just strive to make a good impression and be good guests," I state. "That's if you want to be invited back."

"Yes, sir," they reply looking a bit sheepish.

I open the door and walk out into the hallway where Christian is waiting with a bemused look on his face.

"Mission accomplished!" I comment with a smile.

"They really weren't that bad," he says uncertainly.

"Parenting 101, my boy," I reply cheerfully. "Set the boundaries early and don't let bad behavior pass unremarked. If you wait too long, they won't remember what they did or said that needed correction."

"If you say so," he answers, but he doesn't look convinced.

He goes back downstairs while I join Melissa in our room. Since we are only here for a couple of nights, she already has us unpacked.

"Call the troops to order?" she asks.

"Oh, yes," I say and then sigh. "Why do they always have to do this? Whenever we go anywhere, they have to start in with the button pushing."

"Because they are 10, 12, and almost 15," she replies logically. "And by the time they're through with this phase, this little one will be at it."

She pats her belly, which is only beginning to expand. I smile.

"Maybe this one will be a boy," I comment. "I hear that they're easier."

"Different kind of button pushing," she answers. "But still button pushing. But the real fun hasn't even started yet. Wait until they become interested in boys."

"Isn't that why we are sending them to convent school?"

"Good luck," she says. "Next year the mixers start with the local boys school. Sarah is already making Facebook friends with some of her friends' brothers."

I roll my eyes as we make our way downstairs to lunch. The girls are already at the table, competing with each other to tell Ana all about how Christmas went and how things have been going since our last visit.

"I hope they're not wearing you out," I say during a break in the din.

But Ana simply beams.

"I think that this is wonderful!" she replies happily. "I was an only child and after my Mom remarried it was just Ray and me. I am enjoying being a part of such a lively and active family."

"Are we your family?" asks Katie.

"What do you mean?" Ana asks in return.

"Well, I mean, you're Christian's wife and he's our brother, sort of," she replies. "So I guess that makes you our sister-in-law, sort of. I mean Daddy is only Christian's father, sort of. I mean, he doesn't like call him Dad or anything."

Ana is silent for a minute.

"I call my Dad, Ray, most of the time," she finally says. "Because when he was married to my mother, he was my stepfather. And now my Mom is married to Bob and he is my stepfather, but he's never felt like a father."

"Did you ever call him Dad?" asks Emily.

"No, I've always called him Bob," Ana says.

"Is he your family?" asks Katie.

"Of course, he is," she says. "He's married to my mother."

"Don't you ever get confused, you know, having so many Dads?" she asks.

Of course, none of this makes any sense to her. In her world, you have one Mommy and one Daddy. She is vaguely aware of other kids whose parents are divorced, but I don't think that she ever thought about it too much. Her curiosity is interesting, but I am afraid that it is about to become too personally intrusive.

"No," says Ana. "I never have a problem. I could never confuse Ray and Bob."

"Oh," says Katie. "If they are both step-fathers, then who is your real father?"

Ana's cheerful mask slips a little bit and Christian puts his arm around her.

"My birth father died in a Marine training mission the day after I was born," she says quietly. "I never knew him."

She looks at Christian, who picks up the explanation.

"Ana thinks of Ray as her real father," he says, giving her a little squeeze. "He was the man who raised from the time she was a very little girl. When I wanted to marry her, I asked his permission and then he gave her away at the wedding."

This silences the girls. Since Sarah had the conversation with me about Christian's birth mother, I can see her processing this information. Emily and Katie don't seem to know to think.

"So then, Christian, you think of Carrick as your real Dad and Grace as your real Mom because they raised you," Sarah comments thoughtfully. "That makes sense. But how do you think of Daddy? Is he kind of like a step-father?"

Christian looks surprised by her insightful question. She is watching him closely for his reaction, as are Emily and Katie. I know that he has been struggling with this very issue and I feel bad that the girls have put it out front and center. However, I know that Christian has a reputation as a man who reads other people well. The girls aren't trying to push buttons now or test boundaries. They have a very genuine, human interest in this man who, technically speaking, is their half-brother.

Ana now reaches over and takes his hand. I can see the authentic love and mutual support that they have for each other. I am happy that my son, who has had a painful introduction to life and later suffered abuse at the hands of a perverted woman. I open my mouth to tell the girls to go and put on their ski clothes, but Christian stops me.

"I never knew who my biological father was until I met Chris, your Dad," he says. "So it's not something that I have ever considered. I guess you could say that I'm still considering it."

"Okay," says Emily. "We're still considering whether you're real brother or not, so we're even. Can we go skiing now?"

"Absolutely!" Christian says quickly.

The girls run off to get dressed and he turns to me and sighs.

"They're very smart girls," he comments.

"I'm sorry, Christian," says Melissa. "I feel bad that they put you in the hot seat so quickly, but I couldn't think of a way to stop them without generating more questions."

"It's not the first time that I've been in the hot seat," he answers ruefully. "But they have a very natural curiosity about all this. I will say this. They are very honest. I wish that more adults had that degree of forthrightness."

I agree with him. When everyone is ready and we pack them up in the SUV with Sawyer driving this time, Christian is laughing and joking with them about their abilities in skiing. Being kids, the lunchtime conversation is already forgotten at the excitement of testing out some new slopes. The air is crisp and it looks like there is good snow pack under the powdery cover.

By the time we get to the slopes, everyone is relaxed except Sawyer, who has just undergone a third degree similar to the one Ryan got. He is muttering about exacting some sort of revenge on Ryan who had talked him into swapping duties, since Sawyer is usually Ana's close protection. I look over at Christian who is smiling at Sawyer's discomfort.

"I guess no one is immune," he comments.

"Just ask Ryan," I reply.

But in my heart I feel a warmth growing in my heart that I never thought possible. I suppose that in my own way, I have been restraining my emotions where he is concerned, fearful of the rejection, which on many levels, I so richly deserved. But it looks like that is not going to happen.


	11. Chapter 10

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 10**

**Carrick**

I pick up the phone on the first ring. Grace and Mia are out, shopping I think. Mia feels that she needs a whole new wardrobe because she starts school on Monday. I don't see why. She already has two closets filled with clothes. However, Grace wants to indulge in the hopes that she will become more enthusiastic about this later endeavor. She was just barely interested in the books we purchased at the bookstore yesterday.

"Grey," I say briefly.

"Grey, this is Flynn," says the other voice, in clipped tones. "Can you talk?"

"Yes," I reply. "I'm alone in the house. What's wrong?"

"It's Lincoln," he says. "Clark thinks that he has enough circumstantial evidence to charge him."

"He can't," I answer. "He's bluffing. He may be able to call in him in for another interminable interview, but he has nothing. Lincoln has an airtight alibi and there isn't a shred of proof that he hired a hit."

"He believes that there is a connection between Christian and the divorce," he replies. "He is trying to connect the dots to make out a case that somehow the murder is tied to the divorce. He may not have any evidence, but he's got a boatload of motive."

"God damn his instincts!" I swear. "If Lincoln ties Christian to the divorce then he will be able to tie him to Elena's lifestyle. There's no way of tying him to the murder, but it will be devastating publicity for him."

"I can only think of one way to shut Linc up about that," he answers. "You could offer to defend him against all charges."

"Why the fuck would I want to do that?" I ask, infuriated. "Linc posted bail for the man who subsequently kidnapped my daughter and nearly killed my daughter-in-law and her unborn. Let's not even get into the original charges that put him behind bars."

"Would you prefer that he tell everyone that seven years ago he caught your twenty-one year old son having a BDSM affair with his ex-wife?" Flynn asks. "Do you want that salacious story out there?"

"Does he know the nature of the affair?" I ask.

"Yes," he replies simply.

"I'm guessing that I don't want to know how you came by that information," I sigh. "And I'm always guessing that you know that it's accurate."

"You are a very good guesser, Grey," he says. "You are caught between a rock and a hard place. Christian and Ana will be in Aspen for the week, which will get him out of the line of fire _and _keep him out of this particular loop."

"Is Taylor with him?" I ask.

"No, Taylor is in Las Vegas eloping with Mrs. Jones," he replies. "They will be back on Monday night."

"Good," I say. "When will Price be back in California?"

"Also, Monday night," he says. "They have to get the girls back to school on Tuesday. He is prepare to take a business trip anytime that he is needed."

"What about . . . ?"

"Don't worry, that situation is under control," he says.

"So then all we can do is sit tight," I reply.

"What about Lincoln?" he asks.

"He can rot in hell for all I care," I answer.

"Do you want him to drag Christian down with him?" he asks.

"No," I say with a sigh. "I'll hold my nose and make sure that he doesn't have any legal problems."

"You know Grey," Flynn comments. "I hate this is much as you do. I am bending all kinds of ethical rules, but after all the suffering that Christian has been through and all of the progress that he's made, I don't want him back to square one."

"I couldn't agree more," I reply. "Much as I loathed Elena and a part of me thinks that she got what she deserved, I'm very sorry that she was murdered."

"I'll be in touch," he answers and hangs up.

I really don't like the idea of having to defend Lincoln, but it is obviously the lesser of the two evils. At any rate, at least I know that he is innocent. The greater difficulty is going to be explaining to Grace and Mia, why I will if to do this. I don't want to have to give them any of the unsavory details of Christian's past. Especially since I would be defending Linc to avoid that from happening.

I cannot even begin to imagine how disturbing it would be to both of them, especially Grace who has been berating herself for months for not protecting him from Elena, the pedophile. Elena, the Domme, would probably be impossible for her to reconcile. And it would open up a whole world of questions about how he has lived his life up to this point.

Mia idolizes her brother, so I can't even imagine what such a revelation would do to her? And Elliot? Well, who knows how he would read it? He spent years surreptitiously teasing him with all kinds of suggestive remarks about being gay. What would he make of the idea that his younger brother was into this whole alternative lifestyle.

No, Linc must be pacified and kept silent at all costs. The Lincolns have hurt this family enough. I will figure out some way of explaining it to them if I have to. The only thing that I have going in my favor is that I know that I would be defending an innocent man, the scum of the earth, but innocent nonetheless.

**Melissa**

After the husbands leave with the girls, Ana and I settle ourselves in from of the roaring fire in the great room. Without being asked, Ryan brings in a load of logs.

"I thought that you were looking forward to skiing, Ryan?" asks Ana.

He gets an odd look on his face.

"I thought that I would give Sawyer the opportunity to get out," he replies. "He's so often inside with you at home."

"That's very kind of you, Ryan," she replies. "I know how much you enjoy the slopes."

Ryan bows his head and makes his way towards the office by the door to give us some privacy.

"That was odd," she comments puzzled.

"Not really," I say with a laugh. "The girls gave him quite a run for his money on he trip over from the airport."

"Oh, dear," she replies. "Christian doesn't want us 'fraternizing' with the staff, so to speak."

"I would hardly call it that," I answer. "It was more like the third degree."

"Poor Ryan," she muses. "He usually stays with Mrs. Jones, soon to be Mrs. Taylor, at the house."

"Oh, _that's _where Taylor is!" I say. "He's off getting married. Chris and I were surprised that he wasn't here since it seems that Christian likes to keep him close at hand."

"He also wants to keep him happy," she replies. "Christian is a rather high maintenance employer and both Taylor and Gail work long hours. They are also separated for days at a time. Once Taylor finally decided to pop the question, Christian and I offered to send them off to elope, wherever they chose, in this case Las Vegas.

"They are getting first class treatment from the airline seats to the largest suite at the Bellagio. Since I have no idea when they are going to get another chance like this tone away from us, I wanted to make sure that they had the best of everything. I can't even imagine what either of us would do without them."

"They've been living together for the past few years," I say. "What made them decide to finally tie the knot?"

"It was actually Taylor's seven, almost eight-year old daughter Sophie," she explains. "As you know, we refinished the space above the garage as apartment for them, to give them some privacy. In doing that I furnished a bedroom for Sophie. However, Taylor's ex wouldn't let her have overnight visits unless they were married. She actually sat them down and asked her father to please marry Gail."

"That's too much," I reply. "She sounds like a little spit fire."

"Actually, she's a shy little thing," Ana comments. "But since the divorce, Jeannine, Taylor's ex, has been trying to keep them apart. She's remarried. Nevertheless, Sophie loves her Daddy very much and wants _more _time with him, not less. Besides, she also likes Gail and she wants her father to be happy."

"I hope that we get to meet her one day," I say.

"So do I," Ana replies wistfully. "It really has been beneficial for Christian to connect with his biological father, and to get a more sympathetic portrait of his birth mother. Carrick and Grace will always be his parents, but knowing the origins of his birth had made him feel less 'defective' than he used to."

"It's tough on Chris to know that Christian is son, but he is never going to view him as his father," I say. "The greatest difficulty is that Christian looks so much like Ella. I have to admit that I was a little concerned when we were married that I would always be competing with this ideal romantic heroine from his youth."

"I think that you have been marvelously understanding throughout this whole situation," replies Ana. "I know that it hasn't been easy on you and the girls."

"But in some ways, the girls do make it easier," I explain. "You see that are very honest and have a natural curiosity about everything. In trying to explain things to them, it brings us to a greater understanding. Even Sarah, who is very astute for her age, is still trying to solve the conundrum of a real parent versus a birth parent versus an adoptive parent. I know that our earlier discussion about step-fathers in your life was painful, but it has given them a new frame of reference or context to consider things."

"I suppose that Chris has always wanted a son?" she asks.

"I think that it is natural that all men went sons," I answer. "Especially when they have created their own companies. They want to pass along the leadership of the company to a family member, along with their. Don't get me wrong, Chris wouldn't trade any of the girls for a boy, but I think that he is a little jealous of Christian. You know, for getting a son on the first try."

"I hadn't thought of that," she says.

"Well, Chris didn't want to tell you until we knew how the weekend was going, but I really would like to share with you that I'm pregnant again, after almost eleven years," I reply. "In fact, I'm due a couple of months after you."

"That's wonderful!" Ana smiles. "Do you know the gender yet?"

"No," I reply. "I am worried because the doctor wants to do an amniocentesis in a few weeks because I am over forty. He's afraid of potential health issues."

"Would you do anything different if there were?" she asks.

"Absolutely not," I answer vehemently. "We believe that all life is sacred and that God doesn't make mistakes. This child is a blessing. If it were left up to us, we wouldn't even have the test done, but the doctor refused to take the case unless we agreed to the test."

"God doesn't make mistakes," she says thoughtfully. "When I first discovered that I was pregnant, I was afraid that it was too early, that we weren't ready. And Christian was furious."

"You wouldn't know it now," I say in surprise.

"No, not at all," she says. "Now it's impossible to imagine what life would be like if this little guy wasn't coming along."

She pats her stomach and then looks up in surprise.

"Wow!" she says in awe. "I actually just felt the baby kick. I have been feeling him move for a few weeks now, but never kick."

"Wait a couple if months," I say warmly. "You'll be able to see him move and shift around. I always found that when I was moving around, the baby slept. But when I would sit or lie down, that's when she would go into action. Katie, our little athlete was the worst. If you're already feeling movement like that, chances are that will be an active little one also."

Ana beams.

"I'm so glad that I can talk to you about this," she says. "I really haven't had anyone else to talk with. My Mom was so young when she had me and she lives so far away. And none of married friends are married or pregnant yet. And Grace, even if she is a pediatrician never carried a child, even though she always wanted to."

"Well," I say. "That is one of the reasons that we are so pro-life. Can you I,agile how it would have been if Ella had aborted, or for that matter Mia and Elliot's mothers. There are so many childless couples who are dying for children."

"Yes, I know," she replies quietly.

Seeing that she is becoming pensive, I toss another log on the fire and get my book from my room. When I return, Ana is also reading. We spend the afternoon in companionable silence, reading and enjoying tea and cookies served by Mrs. Bentley. She is pleased to have people in the house. Apparently Christian and Ana don't use the house very often.

Around five o'clock, after it has gotten dark, the skiers return from a grand day on the slopes. As usual, all three girls are talking at once. Christian and Chris look relaxed, with bright eyes and rosy cheeks. As is his habit, when Christian greets Ana, he gives her a kiss and lays his hand on her belly.

"Hey, Blip," he greets her stomach. "Did you have a good day with Mommy?"

The look on his face is priceless and Ana grins at me.

"Ana!" he says in wonder. "Did he just . . . ?"

"Greet you?" she finishes. "Yes, he did."

He looks at her in awe.

"He did it again!" he exclaims excitedly. "Do you think that he knows that I'm his father?"

"I'm sure that he does," she says softly.

"That is, like, so cool!" says Sarah. "Do you think he'll kick us?"

"Girls," I say in a cautious voice. "I am sure that Ana doesn't want all of you going over and testing that theory. Let's observe a few privacy boundaries."

"I know three girls who just got very hot and sweaty outside," interrupts Chris. "I thin that it's time for showers and a change of clothing before dinner."

"Just pile up the dirty clothes in the basket in your room," says Mrs. Bentley. "I'll launder them so that they are fresh for tomorrow. And I'll have cocoa for you when you're done."

"Yes, ma'am!" replies Emily eagerly as she charges off, followed by her sisters.

"You don't need to do that," says Chris.

"I don't mind," she answers, with a smile. "And it will buy you a few minutes peace before the onslaught begins again."

The four of us laugh. I can't help but think how comfortable that we have all become with one another. Ana smiles over at me softly. I know that she wants father and son to develop some kind of relationship. At the moment, it's friendly more than familial, but that's okay. Sometimes friends are easier to get along with than family.


	12. Chapter 11

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Thanks for all the feedback from my old readers and welcome to my new readers! I wish that I had time to respond to you all, but life is much busier now that I am back at work. I am also working on a new story that I will begin to publish after this one is complete.**

**Enjoy! And please continue to send feedback. It is very helpful.**

**Chapter 11**

**Christian**

As we drive back home, I look at young Sarah, age fourteen, almost fifteen. She is an innocent little girl, tall and awkward. That was I once. That was the child that Elena tempted into a lifestyle of deviant sexual behavior. They are all right. Elena was a child molester. If any man tried to do that to this innocent, little angel, I would kill him with my bare hands. I understand Ana's anger and loathing towards her.

Until I met Ana, until I was healed by her gentle, unconditional love, I might not have believed that I was ever such an innocent. I had seen myself as inherently wicked, undeserving of the love that my family offered, deserving only of the abuse that Elena delivered. When she knew that she had captivated me with her cruelty mixed with violent sex, Elena knew that she owned me. Or she did until her husband discovered our secret.

But having spent a second day on the slopes with these three lovely, alive, and precocious girls, I realize that they are living out a childhood that I had denied myself. My parents tried so hard to bring into the inner circle of the family. It was I who put myself on the outside. The three of them laugh and tease together. There were three of us, Elliot, Mia, and me. But I never let them close enough to experience this kind of special bond.

It wasn't that we _didn't _laugh and tease among ourselves, it was just that I placed hard limits on what and when Elliot or Mia could say something. Elliot was, is, and will always be the class clown of the family. He dares to say things to me that no one else would. And I let him, but only up to a point. And Mia pouts and gently teases in order to get around my moods, but even with her there are limits. While I would never have told her to "fuck off," as I have so many times with Elliot, I would escape from her to glower on my own.

It is also obvious that the Price girls have secrets. Secrets that they share between themselves and keep from their parents. But I only had my own secrets. I secretly felt unworthy of my family. I secretly was obsessed with the beautiful, older woman who promised to fix me. Ana swears that she only made things worse for me. Perhaps she did. Instead of installing true self-esteem, she reinforced my self-loathing.

At least, that is what Flynn tells me, in not so many words. Flynn has given up trying to lecture me, but rather has begun to guide towards drawing these conclusions for myself. I will give him credit. He is pretty subtle and crafty as to how he goes about it. In fact, sometimes I don't even realize it until after I have left his office. Once upon a time ago, this might have pissed me off. Now I accept it as a new business model.

When we come in from skiing this afternoon, the wives are sitting in front of the fire drinking tea again. Mrs. Bentley has been baking, shortbread cookies this time. Naturally the girls make a beeline for them and each grab a handful before scooting up to their room for showers. I offer Chris and Melissa hot toddies to warm up. Melissa declines.

"I hadn't been aware that you were a tee-totaler the last time we saw you," I comment.

She and Ana exchange one of their "we've got a secret" glances that I have discovered that women often make in front of men. But then I notice that Chris is grinning too.

"Okay," I sigh. "What does everyone else know that I don't?"

"Melissa is pregnant!" Ana says happily. "She's due two months after I am!"

I am not exactly sure of what to say to that. A baby? What does that mean for us? Will it be a boy or a girl? If it's a boy, does that mean that Chris will lose interest in me? Oh, it why should I care? After all, I don't consider him my father anyway, do I? A barrage of conflicting emotions hit me and I need to sit down.

Ana, Melissa, and Chris are all watching me carefully, trying to assess my reaction. I feel lost. Finally, Melissa takes pity on me and speaks, trying to lighten the tone.

"I know that I'm over forty," she says kindly. "But that's not too old. And we have been trying for a fourth child ever since Katie was born."

"What do the girls think?" I ask, trying to take the focus off myself.

"They're thrilled of course," answers Melissa. "They're hoping for a little brother."

"Oh," I say, not sure of how to process that. But of course, they've probably wanted a little brother for years. And they've already said that I don't feel like a brother to them. Hell, I don't feel as if I'm their brother. I'm Elliot and Mia's brother. I know that Chris has always wanted a son. What man doesn't? But I haven't been able to acknowledge him as a father. I can see that he is closely watching me.

"Christian," he says kindly. "I'm not sure of how I feel about my relationship, whatever it is. I think of you as Ella's son, and my own. I look at you and I see you. Your facial features really are quite similar. I love you, as any parent naturally loves a child, but you are not a child. You are really too old, your identity is too fully developed, for us to have anything approaching a father-son relationship. That's not what I'm looking for . . . I know that I'm not explaining this very well, but . . . "

"I think that Chris is also trying to say that he doesn't want to frighten you off," continues Melissa. "We know that if we come on too strong, or if he does, then you will dismiss us from your life forever."

"I wouldn't do that," I say immediately, without really thinking.

The other three look back at me in surprise. But then I remember our first meeting, when I cursed the whole idea to high heaven . . . and Melissa threatened to wash my mouth out with soap. Unconsciously, I move over to sit beside Ana and rest my hand on her belly. I feel a good solid kick. Of approval?

"I think that he's trying to tell you something," says Ana softly.

I can see that she has interpreted it the same way. The mood is broken when Emily and Katie come galloping downstairs.

"Can we have hot chocolate?" asks Emily.

"With marshmallows?" finishes Katie. "Sarah's not ready yet."

"It's too close to dinner," replies Melissa. "And you've already had cookies."

"But we want a hot drink to warm us up," whines Emily.

"How about some hot apple cider?" asks Mrs. Bentley, who must have heard the ruckus.

"With cinnamon sticks?" asks Katie.

"I think that I could manage that," she answers with a smile. "Can I get anyone else a mug?"

"No, thank you, Mrs. Bentley," replies Ana. "We're good and I believe that Chris and Christian have warmed themselves up nicely with their hot toddies."

"Very good, Mrs. Grey," she says, with a nod, and turns to go into the kitchen.

"I must compliment you on your wonderful staff, Ana," says Melissa. "They are all wonderfully devoted."

"And they speak English," adds Katie.

"Our staff speaks English," corrects Emily.

"Nuh-huh," contradicts Katie. "We don't have staff like Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Bentley. Our staff has names like Gabriela and Teresa. And they speak Spanish when they're not talking to us."

Melissa frowns at them.

"This isn't about language, girls," she says. "We've had some wonderful help over the years, but they don't tend to stick around."

"I can't take credit for our staff," interjects Ana, sensing a potential dispute. "So far all of them have been hired by Christian."

"I pay them well enough," I shrug. "I suspect that the larger Hispanic population in California means that more household staff are native Spanish speakers."

"All our friends have Mexican maids and gardeners," says Sarah as she enters the room. "Some of them even have green cards."

"All of our staff have green cards," says Chris sternly. "And they have health insurance and everything else that they need."

"So girls," says Melissa, obviously wanting to change the subject. "How does the skiing here compare with Tahoe?"

And the rush to put out opinions begins. Once again, I am amazed by how easily the girls' attention can be diverted to safer topics.

Later that night, as I join Ana in bed, I lie down beside her and pull her close to me. As has become the norm, as I put my arm around her, I can feel our son moving.

"Does that ever make you uncomfortable?" I ask curiously.

"Not right now," she answers sleepily. "But I have been reliably informed that when he gets bigger, he'll be kicking my ribs and keeping me up. And by the end of the day, I will be tired from carrying him all over."

"Was it Melissa who informed you?"

"Yes, she did," she yawns. "It certainly wasn't my mother. And I don't know anyone else who has had a baby closely enough to ask those kinds of questions to. Melissa has become a good friend. She's not motherly like Grace or Gail, but she's easy to confide in."

"You don't view Carla as motherly?" I ask, interested.

"Not really," she says. "You know she was very young when she had me, just barely twenty. And I was an unplanned pregnancy. There are times when I've asked her if I ruined her life, you know, by forcing her to marry my father so young and then have the responsibility for raising me. But she always says no."

"Why didn't she and Ray have any children?" I ask.

"I don't know," she admits. "I've never been able to get a straight answer out of either of them. I guess that's why I've always wondered if I didn't ruin her life. You know, you would think that if she hadn't had me so young she would have wanted more children."

"So then, I guess that you could say that both of us were unplanned pregnancies," I muse.

"You could because we were," she replies logically. "But I was luckier. Carla told Frank, my birth father. Then when Frank died, she was lucky to find Ray pretty quickly, so there was someone to take care of us. Your birth mother wasn't nearly as lucky."

"She was only a year younger than Carla was when she had me," I comment.

"But Carla was a high school graduate and out working," she says. "And my father was in the Marines. He had the income to support her and provide for the medical care she needed. Ella was a scared high school senior. Chris didn't even know about it, but even if he did, what could he have done?"

"So I guess that both of us are a pretty good advertisement for birth control," I answer, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

Ana looks up at me wearily. I know that she is tired, but she needs to say what she needs to say.

"Yesterday, when we were talking," she says quietly. "Melissa put things into perspective for me. In a couple of weeks, her doctor is insisting that she has to have an amniocentesis because she's over forty. She doesn't want to because she said that no matter what the results are, she is going to keep the baby. Then she said that God doesn't make mistakes.

"So if you think about it, neither of us was a mistake either. Just because our parents didn't plan to have us, it doesn't diminish our lives in any way. And just think, if it hadn't been for those unplanned pregnancies, then there wouldn't have been this one. Now that I am used to the idea. I can't think what our lives would be like without him."

I feel another solid kick and gently rub her stomach.

"Neither can I," I answer softly.

I am rewarded by another kick. I can see that as well a being a strong boy. He is a smart one. Ana cuddles in close to me and I assume my nighttime protective position. I think about how Ella must have felt during those months when she was sleeping alone, with no husband or boyfriend to keep her safe. She must have been so lonely and frightened. And she must have been very confused. I can see now that I'm very lucky that she didn't view me as a mistake.

I am beginning to realize that it isn't really fair for me to question her judgment or her choices. Ana has fallen into a deep sleep. Her breathing is even and she is smiling softly. Her hand is lying on her belly, where is always does when she sleeps now. I try to imagine a scenario where she suddenly lost me, all of our families, and all of our money. What would happen if she had to face the world alone with Blip? Would she give him up for adoption because she didn't have the means to raise him?

Of course, she wouldn't. And if, God forbid, anything was to happen to her and I was in the same position, would I ever give him away to someone else to raise? What would happen if by some circumstance, we were separated and I only discovered this boy, this son, ten years, or maybe twenty years, later? Would I approach him with the same love and kindness with which Chris is approaching me? Or would I barrel in claiming what is mine and demanding his return to his rightful parent?

What would be the right response? It is in this moment of clarity that I can see what Flynn has been harking on for the past few months. I would never be able to move forward in my emotional growth until I had developed a capacity for empathy. As I put myself in Chris's shoes right now, I believe that I have truly discovered the meaning of that word.

Once upon a time, I was a little Blip. I was an unplanned predicament for my mother. For years I have taken the moral high ground from her, viewing her bad choices and mistakes as an intrinsic failure on her part to love me. Yet what was my instant reaction when Ana told me that she was pregnant. I rejected my child and abandoned my wife. I left her vulnerable so that she did not come to me when Hyde kidnapped Mia. As a result of my stubborn stupidity, I nearly lost them both.

But I didn't. Some force, God perhaps, gave me a second chance to make things right for them, for us. As I lie here cradling my beautiful wife, I am aware that I hold two lives, two most precious lives, in my arms. This child did not occur through some kind of weird immaculate conception. No, this child is a part of me and a part of her. That is where he came from. That is why he is here.

And off in one of the other bedrooms, sleeps the man who gave me the precious gift of life. He loves me, yet asks for nothing more from me than a place in a little corner of my life. He loves me unselfishly, unconditionally, and without judgment. He knows me and all my flaws. I can learn from this man. I can learn to be a better father and a better husband from this man. His influence in my life neither supersedes nor negates Carrick's, the man who raised me.

What would I do without Ana? She has shown me that love is expansive and all-inclusive. The more love that one gives, the more he receives. I am not sorry that Elena hunted down my birth father. It may be the only favor that she ever did for me in my life. It is odd that so much good can come from such an evil intention. I know that she did it to hurt Grace and Carrick, but I hope that she failed. I will do my best to make sure that she failed.

**Gail**

No sooner have we landed in Seattle, than I am wishing that we had never left Las Vegas. It is a funny thing, since I have not developed any particular fondness for Las Vegas. However, given a choice between the two, Las Vegas would be it this afternoon. I want to go back to those sweet, uncomplicated days that we shared there.

Our marriage ceremony was simple. Neither of us wanted anything more than the exchange of vows and rings. Following that we went for dinner and an evening show and then back to our suite for the wedding night. Despite the fact that we had shared many nights of lovemaking before, this time was very special. There was that knowledge that _this time _we consummating the promises made with our words, with our bodies.

Neither of us has the taste for the more adventurous sexual activities of our employers. Perhaps it is because we are older and each of us married before. Those kinds of games hold no appeal for me. I have always preferred the tender, sensitive lovemaking of both of my husbands. I suppose that those who know Jason as the strong, silent guardian of the mighty Christian Grey would be surprised to find out that he is a gentle lover.

Those who share a depth of feeling and likeness of mind such as we do, find great pleasure in the slow, unhurried pace of sensual foreplay leading up to intense climax. Jason and I have never had the kind of riotous arguments that lead to passionate make up. We have never felt the need to feel the excitement of exploring sexual escapades on every available surface in the house. No, we prefer to contain our lovemaking to the bed. Our bedroom is our refuge from the madness that often surrounds us. It is our space, the space where our focus on each other is singular.

Away from the craziness that often defines our daily lives with the Greys, we have enjoyed a time of sweet respite. For seventy-two hours, we forgot about the whims of Christian Grey and his swift mood swings. Jason got a break from the constant tension of worrying about his safety and Ana's resistance to her own security needs. The entire close protection staff is never sure when she is going to go rogue again. And everyone is more concerned about her since she became pregnant except the lady herself.

It is one thing to be unfamiliar with the level of wealth into which one has married, but it is another to completely ignore the dangers that come with it. Since they have married, Mr. Grey has had her mail scrupulously monitored both at home and work. As a part of his scheme to protect her from anxiety, he hasn't told her. However, she really should know of the number of threats from women, and even men, that she receives on a daily basis.

It is only natural that a number of women across the US would be jealous that she would have "caught" one of the richest, most eligible bachelors out there. some of them feel the need to express their disappointment by making all nature of threats against her person. Because of the fact that so many people who assumed for all these years that he was gay, similar threats come from men who viewed him as a potential partner.

After the Leila situation, there has always been a certain degree of concern that one of the other fourteen might also go postal. Thus, Jason has to keep all of them under constant watch, even those married and with other Doms. Leila had married and everyone thought that that was the end of her. He does not want to take the chance that maybe one of the others might crawl out of the woodwork.

And then there is the threat of kidnapping. If the price for Mrs. Grey was high before she got pregnant, it has now doubled or worse. She is still too trusting of those around her. If Mr. Grey has an intrinsic distrust of those around him, she has an implicit trust. She is very sympathetic to anyone in need and not very discerning when it comes to subterfuge. She also has a real and dangerous overconfidence in her own abilities to recognize threats.

It has been easier for all concerned when she works from home. It is one of the reasons that he has chosen to turn a blind eye to our covert breaking of Mr. Grey's rules of fraternizing with the staff. If it makes her more willing to stay at home and out of trouble, he had no problem with it or the possibility that if caught he might have to talk Mr. Grey into letting it continue.

I don't know what is going on now, but Jason has not gotten off the phone since we landed at Sea-Tac. So far, he has spoken with Flynn, Carrick Grey, and Price. Whatever is going on, the four of them are in it together. It has me worried, because it doesn't sound like it is entirely legal and it has something to do with Elena Lincoln's murder.

I must admit that I have been concerned about that since it happened, because it was Jason's night off. Usually, he will spend it with me, upstairs and away from the madness and chaos. But that night, he went out late and did not return until the early hours of the morning. And he would not talk about it, saying that it was nothing that I needed to know.

Now that was not the first time that he had told me that. In fact, he will frequently say that and on rare occasions I will discover that he has been involved in one scheme or another for Mr. Grey. But this time was different. He was extremely tense for about a week. He slept even fewer hours than usual and took more calls from people that he wouldn't reveal.

It has been during this frenzy of calling, that I received a call from Sophie on my own phone. She has never called me before, even though she has had my cell number for about a year.

"Gail," she said anxiously, "I am trying to call Daddy but I keep getting transferred to voice mail. Is there something wrong with him?"

"Nothing is wrong, dear," I say soothingly. "He has just been very busy doing his job for Mr. Grey."

For a moment, there is silence on the other end of the line.

"Did you have a nice wedding?" She finally asks. "Did you take any pictures?"

"We had a lovely wedding," I say. "And yes we have pictures. You can see them next weekend when you visit."

Once again, there is silence on the other end. My heart begins to sink. I knew that Jeannine was not going to give up so easily on the overnight visits.

"I don't think that I'm going to able to visit next weekend, Gail," she says sadly. "Mommy wants me to go away with her and Patrick."

Patrick is Jeannine's second husband. He is pretty indifferent to Sophie, so it kind of surprises me that he wouldn't want to take advantage of a weekend to be alone with his wife.

"Oh," I reply. "Where do they plan to go?"

"Denver," she answers briefly.

"Maybe they would rather have the weekend to themselves," I suggest. "Have you told them that you really want to see your Daddy?"

"Yes, ma'am," she says almost too softly to hear. "But Patrick has been offered a job there. He will make more money and he and Mommy want to go. We are going to look at houses."

My heart sinks to the bottom of my very being. Jason will be devastated. He adores his little girl. This is going to turn all of our lives upside down. Jeannine has full physical and legal custody of Sophie and therefore has the right to take her anywhere she wants to go. Jason followed her to Seattle to be close to his daughter already. It will create a dilemma for us. Will we follow them to Denver? If we do, will Jeannine move again? Are we going to spend the next ten years chasing her all over the country.

Then there is the issue of the Greys. Mr. Grey and Ana have done everything in their power to make us comfortable and happy. Ana has gone out of her way to make sure that Sophie has a lovely room to stay in when she visits. Mr. Grey pays for Sophie to go to the best and most exclusive school in Seattle. All of this has happened because we were married. And Sophie was the one who encouraged us. Poor child. She must be feeling terrible.

"Sophie, dear," I say at last. "As soon as your Daddy is free, I will tell him and have him call you."

"I'm not sure that Mommy will let him talk to me," she says reluctantly. "I'm kind of hiding upstairs. I'm not allowed to use the phone without her permission."

"I will see if I can get him now," I say hurriedly and run over to his office.

"Jason," I hiss at him, when I find him on the phone. "You must talk to Sophie now!"

"I'll call her back," he says, as he tries to wave me off.

"No, now!" I say firmly. "Jeannine wants to move her to Denver because Patrick got a new job."

"I'll call you back," he says quickly into his cell and grabs mine.

"Sophie, honey, it's Daddy," he says tenderly. "What's wrong?"

My heart nearly breaks when I here the crying on the other end. Jason's face tightens in fury. I can't say that I blame him. But the storm of emotions gets worse.

"Put Sophie back on the line!" he thunders into the phone.

I hear an invective on the other end.

"No!" he replies. "I don't give a shit about your rules and don't you dare punish her for calling me! What the fuck do you think that you are doing and when were you planning on telling me?"

More yelling.

"Don't you hang up, Jeannine!" he roars. "We're not finished!"

He throws my cell phone across the room and it hits the wall with a resounding crash.

"She fucking hung up on me!" he growls.

I know now how Ana feels when Mr. Grey loses his temper. I have never seen Jason display so much anger before. Of course, the only other times he had been angry was when something was going wrong at work. He has never had call to be personally angry about something before. I feel myself cringing.

"Why the hell is she doing this?" he asks in despair.

"I don't know," I reply helplessly.

I feel his frustration, as well as my own. There is no legal recourse. She holds all the cards. For the past four years, Jason has done his best to placate her so that he would not put Sophie in the middle of their conflict. But Jeannine has just done exactly that, putting Sophie in the center of what will no doubt turn into an ugly dispute.

And there is no winning position for Sophie. Despite Jeannine's years of trying to keep her apart from her father, I can't imagine that she wants to leave her mother, even if she could. She's too young to have a say anyway. The original arrangement was made based on the fact that Jason was a bachelor working long and uneven, unpredictable hours. As long as they remained in the same city, Jason and Jeannine maintained an uneasy truce.

When was Jeannine going to tell him of the impending move? Probably as close to it as possible. That is why she needed to keep Sophie away from him. Jason is pacing, whatever crisis going on with Mr. Grey, completely forgotten.

"What do I do, Gail?" he finally asks me bleakly.

I shake my head, unable to give him an answer. But I open my arms and he comes over and holds on for dear life. He squeezes me tightly and rests his head on my shoulder.

"I am so sorry," I murmur as I rock him.

"It's not your fault," he answers quietly. "I've always suspected that she would do something like this. She was so angry when I followed her to Seattle. And I thought that she was a little too accepting of our marriage. I think that she has been planning this for a while. But I always thought that Patrick liked his job here."

"Mr. Grey is going to be very upset when you tell him," I reply. "He depends on you so much. And he has done everything that he can to make things easier for your relationship with Sophie. And I know that Ana will be more than upset."

"There's nothing they can do," he comments. "This is not one of those problems that he can solve with money. Jeannine is not going to give her up and I really can't blame her. Whatever else she is, she is a good mother."

"If you want," I say. "We can move to Denver. I will go wherever you need to go to be near your daughter."

"I know that," he replies. "But if I follow her again, she might just prevail upon Patrick to move again. Then what happens to Sophie? She could be dragged from pillar to post and feel guilty for causing the constant upheaval in all of our lives. I just can't do that to her."

The situation seems hopeless. And on top of that, there is this mystery situation going on with Mrs. Lincoln's death. After a few minutes more. Of indulging in his sorrow, Jason pulls away from me and returns to his office. I hear him making a phone call. I know that he is still hurting, but that this is his way of coping. He is not able to control his ex-wife's actions but he has another matter that he can do something about.

I walk over and pick up my shattered iPhone and return to our bedroom. I need to do something that I can take control of as well. I continue to unpack our bags, put things away, and sort out the dirty laundry. If only it was so easy to sort out our lives. I think of Sophie's sad, little voice on the phone and it gives me pause. I realize that I have come to love the endearing child very much.

**Grace**

How could I have failed my son so badly! I know that I have been in denial since the news first came out of Elena's sordid lifestyle. I so desperately did not want to believe that she had engaged in all of that perverted behavior with my son. It was bad enough that she had seduced him at such a young age, but the fact that she had physically abused him as well makes me positively ill.

It was a normal Sunday evening dinner. Christian and Ana are away in Aspen, but Elliot, Kate, Mia, and Ethan were there. Mia was pouting because she wasn't invited to go, but Ethan reminded her that she had just started school and had classes to attend tomorrow. Because he said it, she accepted it and grumbled about having homework to do.

"What do you have to do?" asked Kate.

"Oh, read a few chapters in _The Sun also Rises _and summarize them," she complained.

Kate shrugged.

"Sounds like a pretty standard assignment to me," she commented. "You know if you want a degree, then you're going to have to work for it."

"Who says I want a degree?" she muttered.

But before the conversation could continue, Gretchen entered, followed by Linc.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Grey, Mr. Grey," she said nervously. "But Mr. Lincoln insisted."

"That's alright, Gretchen," I replied kindly. "You may go now."

With another fearful look, she scooted off to the kitchen.

"What the hell do you want, Lincoln?" shouted Carrick.

"Long time, no see, Grey," answered Linc insolently. "You know why I'm here. The cops are breathing down my neck now and I've had no assurances from you about my defense. I don't know how you know, but you sure as hell know that I didn't kill the bitch."

"Lincoln, you have interrupted our dinner," Carrick replied. "Get the fuck out of here,"

"Carrick!" I reproved. I didn't care how angry he was, I did not want to hear that kind of language at my dinner table.

"Such a proper lady," sneered Linc. "Too good for the likes of a whore like Elena."

"I'm warning you, Lincoln," answered Carrick. "I will not have this discussion here at my dinner table."

"Oh, don't be so righteous!" shouted Linc. "You know everything and I can see that you've kept it to yourself."

Carrick turned pale and didn't answer, so Elliot stepped into the breach.

"I thought my father told you to get lost," he said, as he stood.

Elliot is a tall, broad-shouldered man. In fact, he towered over Linc and looked quite threatening. He might seem like a mild-mannered, jovial son, but he is also a loyal one. Like Christian, he would answer any challenge to his family's honor.

"Down boy, down!" replied Linc sarcastically, as he held up his hands. "Seeing a you are all going to be so unreasonable, I guess that it's time for me to play the ace in my hand."

"Lincoln, no . . ." began Carrick, but it was too late.

"Your precious son, Christian," Linc continued. "Was Elena's submissive for six years. She introduced him to the lifestyle and collared him, if you know what I mean. He was her toy, her plaything. In fact, when I found them in flagrante delicto, you might say, she had him tied up. I beat the shit out of her because she let him go."

I felt as though the walls of my life were falling in on me. Elliot came over and rested his arms on my shoulders protectively.

"You don't have to listen to any more of this shit, Mom," he said.

"No, you don't," concurred Linc, enjoying his moment. "I could give you more details, but I think that you know enough for now. Grey, if you don't take up my defense, pro bono, I will leak this to the press."

We all stared at him in shock.

"Yes," he stated. "I will leak this and then the information that your son continued the lifestyle after the affair was over, as a Dom, himself. In fact, if I am not mistaken, that's how things started off with innocent, little Ana."

"What proof do you have?" asked Carrick. "I think that you're bluffing!"

"Do you want to take the risk finding out the answer to that question?" asked Linc. "Do you think that I am making an idle threat? Do you really want to take that chance?"

At that, to my immense shock, Carrick conceded defeat.

"No, I won't take that risk," he replied. "I will represent you, pro bono if that's what you demand. Now get out of my house!"

"Pleasure doing business with you!" answered Linc cheerfully. "Have a good meal!"

And with that, he stalked out of the room and out of the house. I put my head in my hands and wept.


	13. Chapter 12

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 12**

**Elliot**

All fucking hell has now broken loose! I wish that Mom and Dad had let me follow that fucker out of the house so that I could beat the shit out of him. After everything that he and his goddamned wife have put my family through, this is the icing on the cake. The second that Mon dropped her head in her hands to cry, I bolted towards the door of the dining room. It took both Ethan and Dad to hold me back as I struggled, yelling and swearing at the bastard as he walked out of the house like the king of the world or something.

"Let me at the piece of shit!" I hollered at them. "One swing and I'll bring him to his knees. Who the hell does he think he is walking in here and running his filthy mouth with his lies?"

"Don't, Elliot," pleaded my Mom, looking up through her tears. "You're so angry that you might kill him. I couldn't bear it."

"I'd _like_ to kill the fucker," I fumed, but stop struggling against my captors. "You can let go, Dad, Ethan. I'm not going anywhere. Lincoln's not going to get what he deserves tonight."

"Or ever, son," replied Dad sternly. "There's been enough violence already. I do not want to have to defend my son against a murder charge. That piece of trash that just walked out of here is not worth it."

I noticed that Mia had moved over so that she is sitting beside Mom and rubbing her back.

"It's all lies, Mom," she was saying soothingly. "You'll see. When Christian gets back, he will tell you. It's nothing but evil, wicked lies. Mr. Lincoln is trying to cover himself because he killed the bitch troll and everyone knows it."

"Mia," said Dad in his warning voice.

She tosses her hair back off her face defiantly. But I can see that there are tears in her eyes also. She has also loved Christian more than me. He has always been her hero. This has clearly devastated her just as Mom. If Christian were here, I know that he would be comforting both of them and Ana. Of course that would be _after _he took Linc apart limb by limb. I don't think that the three of us could have held _him_ back off the fucker.

"Everyone here is family," she replied petulantly. "I doubt that anyone will go running to the police. Besides . . . Everyone is pretty convinced that I am too stupid to have done it anyway."

On any other occasion, I might have picked up gauntlet and made a smart remark, but even I knew that this was no time for humor or sibling teasing. My Mom was shattered. My Dad was furious. And Mia was seething. Looking at Ethan, I could see that he was totally confused, but Kate's response was the most interesting. She looked angry, sad, and a little . . . guilty, all at the same time. What the hell did she know about all of this shit?

"I think that dinner is well and truly over," remarked Dad. "I don't know about anyone else, but I need a drink. Come, Grace. Let Mia and Kate help Gretchen with the clean up."

Dad takes Mom by the arm to lead her off to the dining room and Ethan and I look at each other. I can see that he wants no part of all that. But Kate will be family in a few months. Besides, she'd tough. She can take it.

"I'll help Mia," said Ethan. "You guys go have drinks."

When Kate and I entered the room, it was obvious that Mom was not done crying. Kate sat down across the room from them, while I got the drinks. They always have the same thing after dinner, a little brandy with their coffee. But tonight they wanted no part of coffee. I wanted something stronger so I poured myself a double whiskey neat. Kate shook her head to my unspoken question. She wasn't interested in a drink.

After a few sips, Mom calmed down. Dad continued to sit beside her in the love seat with his arm around her. I was too jazzed up to sit, so I paced. A million thoughts were circling in my brain. I always knew that Elena Lincoln was creepy. I never liked the way that she used to look at me, as if she was measuring me up or something.

Of course, if she had ever tried any of that shit with me, I would have hit her back. But Christian was a different story. No matter how hard he tried to play tough guy, I was always determined to protect him. I know Mom felt the same way. if she had been beating herself up before, she must be totally devastated.

Nobody seemed to know what to say. Finally Mom spoke up.

"Maybe we should ask Christian to return early," she suggested. "Then he can tell us the truth."

"I don't know," replied Dad. "Both he and Ana need some time for themselves. Things seemed to be getting easier for them. I think that maybe we should allow them a few more days of peace before we have to hit them with this latest shit. Of course, if he goes to the press then they will find out anyway. And then it would be much worse for them. They don't even have Taylor with them this week."

"Do you really think that he'll go to the press?" asked Mom fearfully.

"Not if he wants me to represent him," said Dad. "He has two concerns right now, keeping his ass out of jail and getting his hands on Elena's money. He's got to get from point A to reach point B."

"And afterwards?"

"Christian ruined him once, don't think that he would hesitate to do it again," replied Dad. "You should notice that he hasn't shot the whole wad yet. He's certainly made our lives miserable, but at least he _didn't _go to the press first. I hate to placate him, but I don't have a choice."

"Are you really certain that he didn't do it?" asked Kate. "Kill Elena that is."

For the first time, Dad turned and looked at her. He seemed to be debating what he should say, and it was then that I realized that he didn't trust her at all. He still hadn't forgiven the fact that Kavanagh Media had broken the paternity story.

"Yes," he answered tensely.

"Who do you think did it?" she asked.

"That woman had more enemies than she could count on both hands," he replied. "But like it or not Linc has an airtight alibi and no money to hire a hit. Whoever did this was a pro. If this case were to go to court, and I sincerely doubt that they could get a conviction on him, even if that stupid prick chose to represent himself. Motive isn't enough. You need means and opportunity. Arguably he had opportunity, but no means."

"So then why is he doing this?" Kate persisted, much to my chagrin.

"Revenge, pure and simple," he answered. "First Christian fucked up his marriage and then his company. He built Lincoln Timber out of nothing. It's not just about the money. A man has a certain pride in his own achievements. A self-made man puts his heart and soul into a company. It's not just a living. It's his life. Ask Elliot, if you don't believe me, or Christian."

"Yeah, babe," I said. "Grey Construction is a part of me, it's not just a job that I go to every day. I can understand how pissed off Linc was when Christian demolished his dream, his life's work. But you know, something still doesn't really add up. I mean, I suppose that it really isn't a huge shock that Elena fucked Christian up or collared him or whatever that shit was that he was talking about. That was just connecting the dots on his part. But what makes him think that Christian was into that whole scene after they broke up?"

"Do you think that he was lying?" asked Mom, hopefully. "To hurt us more. Elliot is right. How could he possibly know that?"

At this point, Dad stared out into space and Kate looked down at her hands. Then I could see it. She knows something. Ana and Kate tell each other everything and Ana has never been able to keep secrets from her. Kate is just too damn persistent and Ana can't help it, especially, if she's been drinking.

"Do you want to take that chance?" asked Dad.

As his question hung, unanswered, in the air, Mia and Ethan walked in. HE had his arm around her and she was still sniffling. Dad gave us all a look and I knew that the conversation was over. No need to fill up Mia's head with any more of that shit. She may play at being sophisticated, but the truth is that she is a real innocent.

"All cleaned up," said Ethan with that forced cheerfulness that people use when they want to change the subject. "I need to get home and prepare for classes tomorrow."

Mia pouted.

"I have homework to do too," she added reluctantly, but I doubted that she would get any of it done.

"Well, we both have work in the morning," I said. "So Kate and I had better get going. How are you folks doing? Do you want us to stay for anything?"

"No," Mom shook her head sadly. "I just want to go to bed and try and pretend that this evening never happened."

When we get home, I immediately talk to Kate. She's just been too quiet. This is not her style at all.

"Okay, spill the beans," I say. "What the fuck do you know about Christian and this so-called lifestyle? And don't try to put me off because I can read you too well, baby. Ana couldn't keep a secret from you if she tried. What information did you bully out of her?"

"That's between Ana and me," she answers back smartly. "And anytime that Ana and I have discussed her relationship with Christian, it has always been with the understanding that I wouldn't tell _you_. Christian's rule, if you want to know. He hates it when you bust his balls."

"But nothing that Linc said tonight was a surprise to you," I shoot back.

"The only surprise was that he knew it," she admits. "Although how the hell he knew it is a mystery that we'd better clear up quickly."

"So in other words, whatever was between Ana and you is no longer just between the two of you," I say. "The best defense is a good offense. I would rather know all of the shit now than have it hit me in the face unexpected, like it did tonight. Start talking, Kavanagh and stop pleading at the secrecy of the confessional or some shit like that."

"Cool your jets, Grey," she says right back at me. "Ana told me that I couldn't tell you because Christian would have gone ballistic on her for talking about anything behind his back. He had her sign a fucking NDA for crying out loud. He specifically told her that he didn't want _you _to know because you were a nosy bastard."

"Really?" I say sarcastically. What the hell does she know about me and my brother anyway?

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a shit about his love life all the time, he wouldn't be like that," she answers. "But can you be sensitive? No. First you're all, are you gay, Christian, are you gay? Then you're all, speedy in flight service, bro. You married the first girl you dated. Well, obviously you were wrong on at least two of those charges."

"Hey!" I shout back. "What the hell do you know? Christian and I have always teased each other. That's how brothers are. And it's not like he doesn't bust my balls every once in a while."

"Well, your brother was keeping a whopping big secret to himself," she yelled. "First the bitch troll fucks him up so bad that he doesn't know how to have a normal relationship with a woman. You should see the email that I found between him and Ana at the beginning if their relationship. All this shit about bondage and beatings with canes and whips and kinky crap that I had never heard of before. He was one sick bastard. But you had to keep fucking around with his head."

"What email? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Before Christian started any of these so-called Dom/sub relationships, he and the woman wrote out and signed a fucking contract that spelled out exactly what she had to do, how she had to act, and what he could do to her," she explains heatedly. "It covered everything from a Brazilian wax to metal handcuffs, and worse. Do you know what the fuck a genital clamp is? Why do you think that I tried so hard to get Ana away from him. I knew that he was a control freak from the minute I met him. And that email was proof that I was right. He creeped me out form the day that I met him."

"What happened to this supposed email?" I ask.

"When I confronted them with it, Christian burned it," she replies. "It was the night that they announced their engagement, the night that your Mom found about his affair with Elena and kicked her out of the house. But Ana swore up and down that he had never hurt her, so I let it go. She said that he was cured or some shit like that."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

"Elliot, you can be such an asshole sometimes," she says. "I couldn't take a chance that you might make a joke out of it or something to Christian. He's really hypersensitive about it all now. And if I lost Ana's trust, then whom would she have to talk to? This is hardly the kind of shit that you can confide in your mother you know."

"So you're saying that you don't trust me?" I ask, getting angry again.

"Not where this kind of shit is concerned," she admits. "You may love your brother, but you can be a real loose cannon, no filters, if you know what I mean."

Now I really don't know what to think. This is the woman that I am planning to marry and now she's telling me that she doesn't trust me. She's calling me an asshole for crying out loud. When two people love each other the way that we do, they're supposed to trust each other completely. Right? I could swallow this if she said that she didn't want to see me hurt or something, but no. This is a lack of basic trust.

"You know, your father has been keeping this back from your Mom," she says, as if she had just read my mind. "He knew too. I could tell it."

"My Dad was trying to protect my mother, who has already been through enough pain and guilt over the whole Christian and Elena thing," I reply sharply. "You weren't trying to protect me."

"No," she says. "I was trying to protect Ana. She and Christian still have their disagreements, and he still scares the shit out of her when he gets angry."

I know that. In fact, I know that when Christian finds outs about this he will completely blow his stack. And what about Lincoln? If Christian discovers that he outed him to the family, he just may kill him. Not that I would blame him, but it would only serve to fuck up his life even more.

"Thank God, Christian and Ana are out of town," I say.

Kate shakes her head.

"Sooner or later, they are bound to find out," she comments. "Linc really has it in for him. Christian had better watch his back."

**Price**

I have just taken a late night call from Carrick and am at a complete loss as to what I should do. The infamous Linc Lincoln has chosen tonight to be the night that he would reveal the true nature of Elena's relationship to his entire family. Flynn and I tried to warn Carrick that he might pull some stunt like that if he didn't agree to represent him, it he didn't take us seriously. Now Grace and the children have been traumatized by a scene of epic, dramatic proportions.

Elliot nearly chased down the bastard and beat him to a pulp. That would have been the worst thing that could have happened. I have no doubt that from his hospital bed, Lincoln would have taken the story to the press in all of its techni-color salaciousness. Of course, he still could and then everything that we have been doing to protect Christian from any further pain would have come to naught.

Carrick wants me to warn Christian before he returns home that Linc has been making these threats and that he exposed his former life to the family. He has no choice, but to defend him if he is arrested, but he wants Christian to understand why he would do that.

Quite frankly, I don't think that it is my place to have that discussion with him. I understand that he does not want Christian to return to Seattle unprepared or for him to hear it via the press, and I understand that he does not want to tell him over the phone. But I am not even entirely sure of what Lincoln said.

However, I decide that the best person to bring into the conversation now is Flynn. He knows Christian better than any of us. And because he has been a party to all of his secrets, he knows exactly how much progress he has made. I feel that he has made great progress this weekend. He is slowly coming to terms with my existence and what it potentially means for him. I am glad that the time zones are working in my favor and it is not quite as late in Seattle as it is here.

"Flynn," he says crisply when he picks up immediately.

"Price," I reply tersely. "We have a situation."

"Is the Aspen trip not working out as we had hoped?" he asks.

"No," I say. "It has been good, in fact better than good. I think that Christian is finally coming to grips with his past. He seems to finally be making peace with who he is and attempting to move forward with a more positive outlook."

"So then, what is the situation?"

"It happened tonight back in Seattle," I reply. "To cut right to the chase, Lincoln showed up at the Grey house tonight while the family was having dinner. They were all there: Carrick, Grace, Elliot, Mia, Kate, and Ethan. Lincoln basically told them that Elena had introduced Christian to her 'alternative' lifestyle and that he had continued after the marriage broke up."

"Oh, shit!" he swears. "What brought that on?"

"Apparently, Carrick has been dithering about defending him," I answer. "I guess that Lincoln got tired of waiting and decided to force his hand. But I think that there was also some payback involved towards Christian. I sincerely doubt that he has forgotten or forgiven the fact that he broke up his company."

"Well, let's hope that he restricts his payback to outing him to the family," replies Flynn. "Otherwise it could set back all the progress that has been made. But why are you calling me?"

"I just got a calling from Carrick, telling me the whole story," I say. "He wants me to tell Christian before he returns to Seattle, to prepare him. I'm calling you for your recommendation. My gut instinct is that that is a very bad idea."

"Your gut is right, Price," answers Flynn. "That is a terrible idea. Christian is in Aspen for another week. In that time, we can hopefully get the family past the worst of their shock and muzzle Lincoln to keep him from telling the press. The police won't give a shit, since it has nothing to do with the case. But the press could make Christian miserable for months."

"I know," I reply. "That is precisely what I want to protect him from. You should have seen him today. He was laughing and joking with the girls. We even told him that Melissa is finally pregnant again and he took it very well. He's still promising the girls that he will take them out on his boat. They invited him to Tahoe and he hasn't said no."

"Is he still confused about how you fit into his future?" he asks. "I have been working with him to focus on the future rather than the past. It's really the most positive direction for him to move in."

"I think that he's still feeling his way through the future," I say. "With him it's hard to tell. But we have had some general discussions about what makes one a parent, even if there is no biological connection. The girls are pretty helpful in that sense. They have no compunctions about asking any and all questions that come into their heads. I think that it has helped to clarify things for all of us."

"Well," replies Flynn. "If you are asking for my advice, then I would say don't disrupt Christian's peace of mind. I'll talk to Carrick tomorrow. After you leave, I am sure that Christian will have some more sorting out to do. We have a Skype session set up for Tuesday. I can help him process all of this. I would really like to put him in an emotionally secure place before he gets home. That way he will have a better shot at coping with whatever life hits him with next."

"In case the shit hits the fan?" I ask.

"I hope that it won't come to that," he answers. "But essentially, yes. If we can put the lid on Lincoln and get the police to give up on him as a suspect then Christian may never need to know what happened tonight."

"And the other?" I ask with trepidation.

"It's under control and it will stay that way," he replies.

I return upstairs and am happy to discover that the rest of the house is sound asleep. As I lay down beside Melissa, I know that I need to get a good night's rest myself. We go back home tomorrow, but I don't want to let anything slip that might tip Christian off that things are not all that they appear to be. I need to be on top of my game.

**Flynn**

This twisted tale will only get worse if the truth does not come out once and for all that Lincoln had nothing to do with the murder. I am glad that Christian is still in Aspen with Ana so that they are missing the worst of the emotional fall out. And I am glad that Price called me to ask for my opinion before telling Christian about what happened at dinner on Sunday night. I know that I will have to face the wrath of Carrick for countermanding, but I do not want either Christian or Ana to be flying back from their vacation with the anxiety of facing this madness. And I do not want them ending their vacation early.

Thankfully, Taylor gets back tomorrow. He is the only one who will be able to sort Carrick out. I really don't want him to get mad at Price for not following his wishes, but I also believe that Carrick is misreading the situation. For the moment, Christian is safely packed away in Aspen. If Price had told him, he would have been back tomorrow and put right in the middle of the whole thing.

I believe that we can get things here under control before he returns next weekend. At least, I hope that we can. The longer that this goes on, the greater the chance is that more revelations will be made. And that could have dire consequences.

**To those of you who have expressed concern about Sophie, I want you to know that that situation will not be resolved in this story. I am presently working on another story "Sophie's Choice," which will deal specifically with it. I thought that it deserved its over story. But I decided to foreshadow it in this story to add to the dramatic tension. That story **_**will **_**be true to the ending of Book 3, where ten-year old Sophie appears to give little Teddy his "pop." You'll just have to wait to see how she gets there!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Chapter 13**

**Taylor**

Have you ever heard the expression when it rains it pours? Well, right now it is fucking pouring. It was supposed to be an easy, laid-back kind of week for us. Mr. and Mrs. Grey are in Aspen and under the watchful eyes of Sawyer and Ryan. Gail and I got married in Las Vegas over the weekend, and Grey wanted us to have some quality time together before they returned.

No sooner had we hit the ground, than I got a phone call from Carrick Grey telling me about Lincoln's visit to his house last night. Why the bastard had to pick last night is beyond me. He should have known that we were never going to let him take the fall for the bitch's murder. No, I think that he was all about getting his last licks in, causing as much trouble as he could for Mr. Grey before he took the money and ran.

Then, while I am trying to deal with that shit, Sophie calls Gail because she can't get through to me. It turns out that Jeannine is planning to move out of state and take Sophie with her. To add insult to injury, Jeannine caught her on the phone and now she is being punished for breaking the "never use the phone rule." It's a stupid rule and only exists so that Jeannine can completely control her access to me.

I'm afraid that I was so angry that I smashed Gail's iPhone into the wall. It's not as bad as it sounds though. She was due for an upgrade anyway. I can now see where this thing is going with Jeannine and it's not going to be pretty. To make the divorce as amicable as possible, I sold out on a lot of my parental rights. At the time, however, I really didn't have a lot of money to legally challenge her. Now, I do.

I obviously cannot stop her from moving. And I don't want to put Sophie in the middle of a custody struggle, but I am also not going to sign away all my rights. Even if I don't have physical custody, I know that I can try to regain legal custody. I also know that I need a firmer visitation agreement, one that she can't manipulate just to suit her purposes.

Sophie is now old enough to know who her Daddy is and to want to see me of her own accord. My primary concern is keeping her out of the line of fire. Jeannine knows this and I have a feeling that she is going to use this against me anyway that she can. For a while, she has been alluding to the fact that I _don't _see Sophie much, so why don't I just give up and let Patrick adopt her. She can dream on. It ain't happening, bitch.

After that mess, my next call was to Flynn. We have a pretty solid relationship regarding Grey that goes way back. We both share the duty of keeping him safe. I take care of his physical safety, while Flynn takes care of his emotional safety. Until Elena started up this most recent trouble, things had been moving on a steady trajectory upwards for both of us. Neither of our jobs are easy, but Grey makes it worth our while to stick with him. And we don't admit it, but after all the shit that he's been through, it will be kind of nice to be there for the happy ending.

My job to guard the multibillionaire and his family was pretty much par for this kind of work. There were always threats to safety involving kidnapping, unhealthy obsessions, attempts on their health and well-being, even death threats. But Grey has always provided me with the best technology and staff to handle anything we might run into. It is my job to make sure that threats to his safety don't interfere with his job.

Not having to deal with these wacky female subs has been a treat. At least they aren't n and out of the apartment every few months. Fifteen! And each one, her own brand of crazy. We even have to watch out for the former ones. I would never say this to Grey, but any woman who gets her kicks by having some guy tie her up and beat the shit out of her is a whack job, in more ways than one.

I think that Flynn has actually had the tougher job, trying to keep the man himself on his own two feet. Grey is a control freak from the word go, not to mention an obsessive-compulsive when it comes to his job. Other than his subs, he never had much of a life outside of making money. His relationships with his family members were fraught with lies and deceit.

Dating and marrying Ana changed all that for him. She has not only helped him to come to terms with his past, she has really mellowed him out. He is more relaxed and less work driven. He interacts much more positively with his family, in fact with both of his families. Sawyer has told me that the Aspen trip has been a great success.

Grey and Price are more like buds than father and son, but that's okay. Price is a good man and has gone a long way towards proving his mettle as a loving and protective man. It must be tough for him. After all, he _is _the guy's biological father, but he never got the chance to raise him.

I don't see how he cannot think of him as a son, but that tie just isn't there. And that is exactly what I don't want to happen to Sophie and me. I don't want to be the outsider looking in on my daughter's life. I really feel for Price. He is a very strong man to be able to handle it all, so close and yet so far from the son he never knew he had.

But now, I think that that distance may be working in his favor. He is better able to emotionally handle all of the previous shit with Elena Lincoln and the lifestyle that she dragged a defenseless kid into. It was his life before he met him, so he doesn't have the same degree of guilt as the Greys do. And they have it in spades, especially his mother, who was practically best friends with the bitch.

This business of Lincoln making a full revelation Grey's lifestyle with Elena and his subs is a huge mess. Carrick had learned about it earlier, thank goodness. I cannot imagine what a bad scene it would have been if he had been shocked too. I feel bad for the others. I know that Dr. Trevelyan is going to want to discuss it with him, probably to seek a denial. Not going to happen. Grey doesn't lie. Even for his Mom, there is no way that he will cover up the sordid truth. Withholding information is not quite the same as lying. If she confronts him with what Lincoln told him, he will no doubt affirm it.

As usual, Flynn picks up quickly. He must have my number on some kind of direct, priority line.

"Flynn," I say abruptly. "What the hell are we going to do about Lincoln's revelation? I talked to Carrick and he wants Price to tell Grey before he leaves Aspen."

"I've already talked to Price," he answers. "And I told him not to do it. I don't want Christian walking back into this mess until we've managed to do some damage control. He's doing very well right now. However he needs more time to pull himself together and he needs time with Ana. He is on the cusp of a great breakthrough. If he can make it, it will give him the strength to endure this."

"Do you think it would be possible to pay Lincoln off?" I wonder.

"No," he replies. "Eventually Lincoln will get his wife's money. He sure doesn't deserve it, but there's nothing that we can do about it. In the long run, it is better that way. he gets his money and crawls back into whatever hole he came from. If he gets the idea that he can blackmail the Greys there will be no end to it. Besides, he really does not want the entire story to come out anyway."

"Why is that?" I ask.

"Because when he caught them together, he was coming off of prostate surgery," he says. "Sooner or later, if he opens up that can of worms, word would get out that he couldn't get it up anymore. His wife was doing it with a young buck while he was permanently on the disabled list.

"The man has his pride. I think that he feels that he has gotten his back by outing Christian to the family. You know Christian. He can tough out any publicity storm. He's got a set of brass balls. But facing his family is a whole different ball game. Why do you think that he let them think that he was gay for so many years?"

"I figured that it was something like," I reply. "But when is this shit going to end?"

"It will end when Clark finally realizes that no matter what, he is not going to find the murderer," he answers. "He knows that pursuing Lincoln is a shot in the dark and if the word gets out that Carrick Grey is representing him, I don't see how he can get an arrest warrant, let alone an indictment."

"And the family?"

"Will have to ride it out. They have another week to decide if there is anything to be gained by confronting Christian about the past," he says. "It's ancient history now. Christian has turned his life around and married a lovely girl who is expecting a son. It's everything that they could possible want for him. There is no benefit to dredging through past mud."

"What would you tell them?" I ask curiously.

"I have told Carrick that Christian's progress has all stemmed from him turning his back on his past and focusing on his future," he says. "We all know why he was so fucked up. So does he. He was recently confronted with information regarding his origins that shed a new light, a more positive light on his past. Learning that his parents were just messed up high school kids rather than say a crack whore and a pimp, improved his self-image, a lot.

"Revisiting that darker portion of his life, that shadowy existence of only living half a life while he engaged in self-destructive behaviors taught to him by a hard, unfeeling woman would have no positive impact on his future. Ana has worked very hard to drag him out of the darkness and into the light. There is no reason for him to go back there."

"And so what do you recommend that I do?" I ask.

"Enjoy the fact that Christian is away and you don't have to obey his every whim," he says cheerfully. "Enjoy that time that you and Gail have together. By the way, congratulation! It's about time that you too finally did the deed."

"Thanks, Flynn!" I reply. "And thanks for all your support and advice. I'm glad that we are on the same side."

After I hang up, I sit and stare into space thinking, and they all lived happily ever after. Maybe. But this isn't a fairy tale. There will always be some shit to deal with, especially if I continue to work for Christian Grey.

**Note to my faithful readers: Yes, this is a short chapter, but the next chapter reveals the killer.**


	15. Chapter 14

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Note to readers: Many of you have been guessing at killers all along. A couple of you got it right! That had no impact on the outcome of the story. This was my plan all along.**

**Chapter 14**

**Flynn**

I hang the phone after speaking with Taylor and my head is still in a whirl. I have spoken with each of the major players. It has not been easy, but I believe that I have finally orchestrated the necessary outcome for ending this wretched mess once and for all. It was carelessness that caused this. I should have known better. There are just some people who are incurable.

Who would have thought that so much trouble could be caused by one crazy, mixed up woman? When I think back to that phone call from Carrick that I got in the middle of the night back in December, I wish that I had never picked up the phone. I still can't believe that Leila Williams was able to get out of the state of Connecticut, let alone all the way across the continent, without anyone realizing it until she showed up at Elena Lincoln's home.

It was obvious to me from the recent reports that I was getting from her therapist that she had never really given up her obsession with Christian. She had developed much cannier ways of hiding it, but it was still there. And the most dangerous aspect of that woman was that she was so bloody intelligent and manipulative.

I am not sure that we will ever discover how managed to get the information that she got about Elena and her role in the Chris Price situation. In fact, Chris and his team of investigators had only made a grand supposition.

We knew that Elena was due to arrive home on that Sunday night. She had made no secret of it to her employees at Esclava, all that it would have taken is a phone call. All Leila would have had to do was call the salon for an appointment with the _grande dame_ herself.

And for someone who had managed to slip in and out of both Christian and Ana's apartments undetected, getting into Elena's house would have been just as easy. Christian's place is locked down like Fort Knox. Elena had a fairly straightforward alarm system with no security guards or CCTV to bypass.

And the gun? That was the easy part. All she would have needed to do was go to a gun show with its usual same day service. Her false identification was very well -forged. I guess that being such a talented artist has its advantages in the criminal world. If she had only put all of that genius and talent into her art, she might have been another Da Vinci. Instead, she focused her laser sights on Christian.

It was ironic that both Chris Price and Carrick Grey had decided independently to go to Elena's house the night she got back to confront her. When they met out front, they decided that they would face her together. They would _prove _to her that her scheme to destroy Christian's relationship with his adoptive family was ruined by the fact that his birth father loved him with the kind of unconditional devotion that only a parent, biological or adoptive, can give.

Elena Lincoln knew nothing of this kind of love. Whatever rock she had slithered out from under in order to wreak havoc on the lives of those around her had been dry of any feeling or love. What had she told Christian as she was trying to break up him and Ana? "Love is for fools."

Chris and Carrick had decided that they would face her down with her schemes and lies. Chris had already decided that he would buy her out of the salon business, providing her with a huge windfall, so that she would leave Seattle forever. Carrick had discovered a way to take legal action against her for the physical abuse that she had delivered on Christian, that would be her other incentive to leave town.

I suspect that she would have taken them up on their offer. Prison would not be a very comfortable place for one such as her. And she would not have been able to resist the filthy lucre being offered to her. If only they had gotten to her first, it might have been the end of the "reign of the bitch troll" without any unnecessary flourish.

If I were a God-fearing man, then I might believe that someone up there thought that such an outcome would be too good for her. Of course this outcome was not nearly as painful for her as it has been for everyone else. The shooter blew her away before she even knew what hit her.

But they were too late. No confrontation was necessary. Leila had managed the situation for them. Carrick had the good sense to call Taylor, who had all the skills necessary to clean up the crime scene. In his previous life he had been well trained in making undesirables disappear without a trace.

He also knew the full ramifications of allowing Leila to be arrested and charged. Once talking, who knew what she would say? So Taylor, following the previous protocol established when she had been found in Ana's apartment, told him to call me.

When I arrived they told me the whole story. Price and Grey had walked in and apparently found her standing over the body, gun in hand, and looking very self-satisfied. Naturally, neither one knew who she was or what she might do with the gun. Of course even though she looks like a little wisp of a thing, having already shot Elena, who knew who she would shoot next? Nonetheless, there was a terrible stillness about her. And she wouldn't say much. She listened impassively as Carrick called Taylor.

"The fathers come," she then announced. "Too late, too late. I have already saved him. The bitch troll is dead."

Price and Grey looked at each other.

"You must tell him that I saved him," she continued. "Then he will have to see me."

"Who are you talking about, miss?" asked Price carefully.

"Him, the Master, my Master," she replied. "You know. Your son, the son that you never knew that you had. He . . . he won't see me."

"Why won't he see you?" he asked more gently.

"Angry . . . so angry," she said wistfully. "_Stay on the other side of the continent. Don't cross west of the Mississippi. Don't come near my wife, Ana._ Ana, always Ana. What does she have that I don't have?"

"If he told you to stay away," he probed. "Why have you returned?"

She looked at them with her sly, crafty smile.

"I did not come to Ana," she answered with a secretive look. "I came to Elena, the one she calls the Bitch Troll. He hates her. I know. I heard him yell at her. _Stay away from her! Do you hear me? Do I have to put it in triplicate?_ Look!"

She pointed to the corpse as Elena bled out.

"She will never go near Ana again," she said proudly. "Tell him. I have obeyed my Master. He will have to see me now."

At this point, her tone became more intent, more insistent. i think that that they were afraid of what would happen if they didn't take her to Christian. Fortunately for them, at that critical moment, Taylor walked in.

"Miss Williams," he said sternly. "Put down the gun."

"No, no," she replied, gripping the gun tightly. "I did this for him. I know what she did to him. But it's over. The bitch troll is dead."

"Who is this, Taylor?" asked Carrick.

"Someone very dangerous," he replied, staring directly at Leila. "Call Flynn now."

He held her in his powerful gaze until I arrived.

Leila recognized me the minute that I walked in. She immediately focused her eyes on me. I saw the gun, but also that manipulative gleam that she had in her eye whenever she thought that she had entrapped Christian into seeing her again. Her facial features are very subtle, just barely perceptible and only if you have observed her for a while.

"Look, John," she said, indicating to the body. "I have killed the bitch troll. You must tell Christian. Now he has to see me."

"No, Leila," I replied carefully, uncertain of what she might do next. "I have told you before, if you want to contact him, you must go through me. And he does not want to see you."

"I have been asking you and he still says no," she replied. "I went to see Ana, and he came to protect her. I knew that I could not go near her again. He would not like it. I thought that if I did something that he would like, he would see me. I thought that if I got rid of her greatest enemy that he would be grateful. I want to see him. I need to see him."

"No, Leila," I answered. "You will never see him again."

Taylor had left the room once I had captured Leila's attention. In her present state she becomes highly focused on one thing. It is a part of her obsessive nature. She can only concentrate on one thing this intensively at a time. When I entered, he had slipped out of sight so that he could get behind her.

And the one thing that we could be sure about her was that whenever she was speaking about Christian, she would become intensely focused. Nothing else in her life mattered to her. And at this moment in time, she truly believed that she had made herself worthy of gaining access to his presence. Seeing his opportunity, Taylor easily disarmed her. With a sigh, she sat down on the floor and looked at Elena's body.

"Now she will hurt him no more," she sighed.

Oh, the irony of that statement. She could just as easily have been talking about herself. It was imperative that we taken control of her and make sure that she never has the chance to come anywhere near Christian again.

"What the hell do we do with her now?" he asked.

"Who the hell is she?" asked Carrick.

"He knows," said Price briefly. "He knows the full story about Elena. But I don't think that he knows about this one, or any of the others."

"What the hell is . . . Oh, fuck! Don't tell me that this is a . . ."

"Sub, or Submissive," I filled in. "Yes, this is one of the women with whom Christian contracted a Dominant/Submissive relationship."

"I don't think that I want to know about this," he said, looking ill.

"Too late," commented Price. "We've walked in on a murder scene. I know that you have a responsibility as an officer of the court. I am sick about this because I believe that all life is sacred, even that of the scum of the earth. But this is about our son and protecting him from a salacious scandal of magnificent proportions. Flynn, is this woman even sane enough to stand trial."

"To be perfectly honest," I replied. "I doubt it. But in the process of determining that, she would reveal many things about Christian that would destroy his reputation and quite possibly every step of the recovery that he's made so far."

Leila began looking at us, as if trying to follow our discussion.

"Are you talking about Master, Mr. Grey?" she asked. "Last time I saw him, he told me that if I took one step west of the Mississippi that it would all go away. But now he will change his mind."

"Jesus Christ!" said Carrick. "She calls him Master?"

"Yes, sir," answered Taylor, who had been quiet. "I believe that she is quite mad. I believe that she should be locked up, but not in jail."

"Do you have a plan?" I asked him.

"Yes," he nodded dispassionately. "We have to get her out of here. Then, I will make sure that this is the perfect crime scene. All shred of evidence will go away, as if none of us had ever been here."

"How?" asked Carrick. "Are you going to wipe the place clean?"

"No prints, no hairs, no fibers, no gun," he replied. "No physical evidence whatsoever. It is made easier by the fact that the housekeeper did her excellent, thorough cleaning job earlier today. But we will have to do something about Miss Williams."

"I will not allow any 'accident' to take place," said Price. "The loss of one life is one life too many."

Taylor scowled. As ex-special forces, he did not have such a fastidious conscience. He had a job to do, unpleasant though it may be, and he planned to do it.

"What do you suggest?" I asked interested.

"I am leaving tomorrow on my private plane for San Jose," he said. "Taylor, I am sure that you can figure out a way to get her on my plane surreptitiously. Flynn, find a secure facility for her where she can be cared for. I'll pay whatever the cost is. We just need to make sure that she never leaves. What are the chances that she might be cured?"

"Minimal," I replied. "Very minimal. We will need to get her into a treatment facility where she won't be able to talk her way out again. Her doctors and therapists will have to understand that she knows how to game the system and that she is a pathological liar."

"I can get her on the plane," nodded Taylor. "You are going to need to have a nurse waiting to care for her. I can get you a security guard. I know a good woman who will do it for the right price."

"I can get a nurse," said Flynn.

"Cost is no objective," answered Price. "The only thing that matters is that we get this woman safely out of Christian's life. I don't know a lot about psychology, but I am willing to bet that sooner or later she will be a danger to him."

"She's already pulled a gun on Mrs. Grey," added Taylor. "Before they were married. The last time Mr. Grey spoke with her, he told her no more benefit of the doubt."

"The degree to which this obsession has progressed is frightening," I commented. "But more frightening is her ability to vanish and resurface anywhere she wants. Wherever she goes, she will have to be closely guarded twenty-four hours a day. Twice now we have tried therapy to help her and twice she has gotten away from us and shown up here before we knew it. And her ability to get information is unbelievable. How the hell does she know that Ana called her the Botch Troll?"

"How will we report Elena's death?" asked Price.

"We won't," said Taylor. "Someone will find her. She presently has both a housekeeper and a sub who are in and out regularly."

We all look at him.

"Part of my job," he says briefly. "Mr. Grey wanted for me to keep close tabs on her. He didn't trust her. He was afraid that she might hurt Ana in some way."

"What do you want us to do?" asked Price.

"You and Mr. Grey should leave," he said. "The fewer people here the better. Flynn, you are going to need to get Leila out of here and keep her calm and quiet until I am done. I don't care if you have to drug or if we need to bind her up, but she must be immobilized."

Leila had been following the discussion by turning from one speaker to the other.

"Im-mo-bi-lzed," she sounded out and grinned weirdly. "I like being tied up. Do you have handcuffs?"

Carrick and Price looked sick, while Taylor shook his head in disgust.

"You two leave," I said quickly. "Let Taylor and I deal with this."

We needed to get busy, and these two fine gentlemen were looking squeamish. As a psychiatrist, I had seen it all. And Taylor, during his military service, had seen even more. In a case like this, you have to be able to close your eyes, do what you need to do, and get it over with.

"I'll make the arrangements on my end," said Price. "Taylor, call me when you're ready."

"Yes, sir," he nodded.

When those two had left, Taylor bound up Leila as tightly as he could, gagged her, and got her out to his car. He lay her down on the backseat, completely unable to move. I sat in the front to stand guard. Leila was incredibly docile throughout the whole process. I decided not to drug her.

Looking at her I realized that wherever place her mind had taken off to, it was no longer grounded in anything resembling reality. The only thing that could be done is put her in a place where she could no longer hurt anyone else, or herself for that matter. The last thing for it was to put her in the hands of the penal system. I didn't trust them to be able to hold onto her any better than we had.

The last that I saw of Leila, she had fallen asleep in the back of Taylor's car. He returned, having done his job, and took off with her. The next day he told me that he had been able to get her onto Price's plane with no problem. That was the last that he saw or knew of her.

The only one of us, who presently knows where she is, is Price. There are only four of us who know the whole story and naturally, we won't be saying anything. Christian has not asked me about Leila in months. That last visit that she made to Ana finished her with him. She had probably sensed that to make such a desperate move.

However, the unsolved nature of the crime is creating complications for us. None of us could have calculated the tenacity of Detective Clark and his determination to the find the killer. We need to shut down Lincoln once and for all and to do that we need to get Clark off his back.

More importantly, I need to convince the Greys not to confront Christian with their newly discovered knowledge.

**Price**

I'm afraid that it's shit or bust time. This situation needs to be resolved. But, there is no way that I can allow the police anywhere near Leila to question her. There is no such thing as a confidential police report. Any sleazy rag would be able to get their hands on it via PI. And Leila has not improved one iota since we caught her.

Once I safely brought her to San Jose, I kept her in a secure sanatorium for a few days. That was clearly not going to work. The doctor there is one of the best and he tried putting her on one of the best anti-psychotics out there. But all it gave us was a more lucid crazy woman. She also scared the shit out of the other patients with all of her talk about the Master and bondage and shooting the Bitch Troll. Luckily, she was so incoherent that no one could make any sense out of what she was saying.

The alternative was to put her in a solitary confinement of sorts, but I didn't want that. If she was going to be staying here for the rest of her life, I wanted her to at least have a semblance of a life. So I decided to create her own haven of sorts, a place where she would be allowed to pursue her artwork in peace and live with her ghosts

It wasn't as difficult as you might think. Knowing that there were all kinds of artists' colonies in place like New Mexico and Arizona, I bought a lovely little piece of property in the desert. There was already a comfortable house there that we spruced up and set up tight fences and gates around the perimeter. There was a small barn on the property that was easily converted to a studio. I laid in all manner of art supplies so that she could occupy her days doing something she loved.

Then, taking a page out of my son's book, I hired a middle-aged couple as her caretakers. For the first time in my life, I hired illegal immigrants, knowing that if I made their lives comfortable, they would keep their mouths shut about the crazy woman in their care. They also knew that we could turn them over to immigration any time we wanted. These same kind of illegals were hired to do the work on the place. They were highly paid and had no complaints.

Lastly, I hired a female psychiatrist to look after her medical needs. She was also a middle-aged woman, burned out from years of work in the psyche ward of a huge hospital in Los Angeles. She was grateful for the opportunity to practice what she loved doing in the peace and quiet of the little haven that I was creating for this poor, sick woman.

Because she was so busy with her career, she never had developed much of a life outside work. Tending to Leila would give her a way to continue to work in her job as well as the time to write about her experiences. I essentially put all of my skills as an entrepreneur into use, selecting the best people and making it worth their while to be loyal.

Since we established the set up three, almost four, weeks ago, I have been receiving regular reports on Leila's progress. But so far there is none. She only talks about the Master or Sir. She wants to see him. And she writes letters to him every day that she gives to her doctor to be mailed. Of course they never are. They are read and filed, but the theme is constant. I will love you until the day I die and I miss you. Please see me. I know that we were meant to be together always. it is chilling.

The doctor also includes information about her days. Leila believes that it is Christian who is her benefactor and we have decided to leave it that way, even though it reinforces the delusion that he still cares for her. There is no need for her to know the truth. Christian believes that she is still living in Connecticut, living a somewhat normal life. He no longer asks Flynn about her. He assumes that he is safe from her. And he is. I will make sure of that.

Arguably, she has gotten away with murder. However, with her present mental state, she would be declared unfit to stand trial anyway. In that case, she would be committed to a psychiatric facility and periodically checked on to see if she has improved enough to face the court. It would be a highly expensive process for the state of Washington. I figure that the money they save on Leila's treatment and incarceration is better spent on schools and hospitals.

Now I must convince Clark to somehow give up his witch-hunt for Lincoln. Carrick is only reluctantly offering to defend him. I understand that reluctance. No doubt, it would be a real blow to Christian to find out that his father was doing anything to help him. But if Linc never is arrested, then such a scenario would never come to pass.

One of the things pushing Clark towards an arrest of anyone is the fear that a cold-blooded killer is out there who could strike again. Well, the killer is gone and no longer a threat to anyone, except for me, and my very deep pockets. However, I don't give a shit about the money. I have more than I can spend in several lifetimes. And it is a small price to pay to protect my son and his family. The doctor is very clear about one thing. Leila remains as obsessed as ever and still a danger to both Christian and those he loves.

The other problem that Clark has is the media. They are positive that there is some juicy story behind the Elena killing. They are right of course, but there is no way that I am going to let all of that shit hit the fan. However, I have had my own people begin circulating the rumor that the murder may never be solved. My PR woman is convinced that the only thing the media likes better than a sexy, salacious story, is a mystery.

Sexy and salacious sells papers for days, maybe weeks. Murder mysteries sell papers for years. I am hoping that if we can get the tabloids interested enough in that angle that it will take the pressure off Clark and the department. They know in the long run that they have shit on Lincoln. Why would they want to waste money and resources continuing to pursue both an innocent man and a trail that has gone cold.

But most importantly, I have to figure out a way of getting Carrick and the others to back off the whole Dom/sub thing with Christian. It's old news and ripping open old wounds at this point is completely counter-productive. They should be looking forward to their new grandchild, the hope of the future, rather than dwelling on the mistakes of the past.

I am looking forward to the future. The past cannot be undone and I need to move on as well. My son will never relate to me as such, but I know hat I now have a good friend in him. Periodically, we will share family vacations and visits together. I will get to meet my first grandchild and he will get to know his new younger brother or sister. Perhaps those children will be friends as well. At least that is what I hope.

**To my readers: I know that there are still a few loose ends. Over the weekend, I will be tying them up in the Epilogue and introducing a new story. **

**Sneak peek:**

**Fifty Shades of Post-Partum**

**Prologue**

I stand above her and look at her sweet, little face, with its rosebud mouth and long lashes on her cheeks. Her little chest rises and falls as she breathes. The bassinet is simple in furnishings. Of course, Christian read about the dangers of pillows and quilts suffocating infants. She sleeps beside my bed so that I can reach out when she cries. So tiny, so fragile, she is just so different than her older brother.

However, I don't always get to her at the first little squawk, like I did with Teddy. He was easier. Because she is smaller, she needs to nurse more often. She sucks contentedly, but not greedily as Teddy did. He always wanted to eat as much as he could hold as quickly as he could get it. He still eats that way, like a horse, like his father.

"Fee-bee," he calls his baby sister, elongating the syllables of her name in his two-year old baby voice. "Teddy love Fee-bee, Mommy. Teddy love Mommy. Teddy love Daddy."

Each night I listen to his simple prayers.

"God bless Fee-bee. God bless Mommy. God bless Daddy. God bless Soeee. God bless Tay-yer . . ."

He can't say "Taylor" properly yet, or "Sophie." The litany goes on. He is so proud that he remembers all the people that he wants God to bless. But Fee-bee is always first. When she was born, I was afraid that he would be jealous, but no, not my boy. His Daddy told him that sisters are a special gift from God to big brothers. It is the job of big brothers to watch over little sisters.

Teddy looked back at Christian solemnly and nodded. He absorbs every word out of his beloved Daddy's mouth like a little sponge. Take care of Mommy. Take care of Fee-bee. That's what good daddies and good sons and "brudders" do.

"Mommy, may I please have a brudder next?" he asked me as if I had a choice.

"Why do you want a brother, Teddy?"

"Need help with all this taking care of," he explains earnestly.

"But what if it were a sister?" I ask.

He wrinkles his face like his father. Oh, little Teddy, you're so much like your father! He shakes his head intently.

"Too hard," he replies. "Teddy need help."

_Breathe, Anastasia, breathe. _I hear those words in my head as I return to now from my reverie. When I first met Christian, he would say that when I was overwhelmed in his presence. Then, he spoke the words as we practiced for childbirth, and then as I was in labor for hours with Teddy. But no matter how much, I breathed, I couldn't push him out. I failed. Dr. Greene insisted on a Caesarian. We almost lost him, my little Blip, now my little son.

Then Phoebe's birth. No breathing involved. It was a scheduled Caesarian. She was smaller, more delicate. I could have pushed her out, but Dr. Greene told me that the Caesarian was less traumatic. Teddy was sturdy, a big baby. It is only now, three months later that Phoebe has just caught up to his birth weight.

"Don't worry, Ana," Christian soothed me. "Little girls are supposed to be smaller. Don't you remember? She screamed bloody murder when I cut the cord. It's the lungs that matter. That's what Dr. Greene told us."

But I still fret and worry. I spend almost all my time with my little girl, watching her, holding her, feeding her. Grace gave me a baby sling so that I could more easily hold her wherever I go. Phoebe likes the sling. Very often, she will fall asleep as I walk around. Not that I get much sleep. At night, I would rather watch her than sleep myself. In fact, these days, Christian is getting more sleep than me.

I have lost almost all interest in my job, my career. I can't even look at a manuscript. Finally, my PA Hannah stopped sending them home. In the past three months, I have completely lost track of what is happening at Grey Publishing, and worse than that, I don't care. Christian and I have hired a solid team to run it. They don't need me.

I gaze at my little angel, my sweet little angel. She does not deserve a mother like me. She deserves a happy mother, a mother who picks her up at the first cry. I find it more difficult to. It takes me a while to shake myself out of my ennui. I am not asleep, but now I just can't move sometimes. I feel tired and listless. At night, sometimes Christian gets to her first. He sleeps lightly.

He thinks that my exhaustion is because of the two children. He worries because my libido seems to have taken off for Antarctica and never returned. I know that he has needs and appetites, but I feel inadequate to fulfill them. My son is bursting with energy and wants me to chase after him when he runs in the meadow like I used to. But running takes too much effort. I prefer sit, with little Phoebe in my arms while he runs around.

He will turn and frown back at me.

"Fee-bee run too?"

But I shake my head. Phoebe and I don't run. These days we can barely walk. Phoebe doesn't know the difference anyway. She is contented just to snuggle in close. So Teddy runs and leaps without us. Joyful, as he relishes this perfect, little haven that we have created here. Everyone, it seems, is happy but me.

One day, Christian was so worried that he took me to see Flynn. His diagnosis was classic baby blues. He suggested a better diet, more exercise, talk therapy. I don't eat much. I mostly eat because Gail is always at my side, encouraging me for Phoebe's sake. Phoebe refuses both the bottle and cereal. She only wants to nurse, to have "mommy milk," as Teddy calls it. I refuse to see Bastille. Christian doesn't force the issue. I don't want to talk.

I prefer to huddle alone and have conversations in my head all the time. Everyone else is busy with their lives. My life is my children, but I am failing even at that. Gail is helping me all the time. I don't know how she gets her own work done. But the house is immaculate, meals are on time, and all of our needs are met. She should have been a mother herself. She mothers me. She frets over me. But I can't even stand that any more. It only adds to my feelings of inadequacy.

_Sleep, little angel, sleep._ I brush my daughter's cheek lightly with my fingers tips. She is really a very beautiful child. She has the same blue eyes and copper-colored hair as her brother.

I look over at Christian sleeping on his side of the bed. He has the same colored hair, but grey eyes, intense grey eyes. It used to be that if I got out of bed, he would be looking for me. But I have been getting out of bed so frequently with the kids that he no longer notices.

I walk into the nursery where Teddy is sleeping in his crib. He's two and a half now, but he's so large he's almost ready for a big boy bed. He's a solid sleeper, he always has been. He's terribly secure, no blankie or teddy bear or other security object for him. I brush his cheek and then I walk out.

I walk down the hall and down the steps to the living room where I can look out the glass wall at the Sound. It's an exquisite view. Tonight there is a full moon. It creates a path on the water, a silver white path. It is enticing. It seems to lead me from my living room towards Olympic National Park.

Unconsciously, I open the door and silently slip out onto the terrace. It is cold out and I am only dressed in my nightgown, nothing on my feet. The stones of the terrace are cold, but I hardly notice. The grass is soft and a little damp and I walk towards the water's edge. It's a long walk, towards the beautiful silver path.

Then I think that I hear someone calling my name, but I don't turn around, I run. I run towards the beautiful silver path made by the moonlight. I feel as if I could only reach the path it would lead me to the moon, the lovely glowing moon. _Goodnight, Moon _is Teddy's favorite book. We read it every night. He would have me read it two or three times.

I feel the cold water on my feet as I step into the silver path. And then it is up to my knees and my waist. I can no longer run, but I push ahead, deeper and deeper. I am now a part of the path. I hear voices calling my name from behind me, but behind me is no longer relevant. There is only what is before me. Don't dwell on the past, Flynn always says, look towards the future. So I look and move forward.

I find myself at greater peace than I been in months. As I look around me, I can see that I am directly in the silver moonlight, the peaceful, peaceful silver moonlight. I am free and they are free of me. They deserve more, better from their wife and mother. I have never been good enough.

Suddenly, I sink and the water surrounds me and fills my mouth, nose, and eyes. Yes, this is good. I belong to the moonlight. _Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, moon._


	16. Epilogue

**Who Shot the Bitch Troll?**

**Epilogue**

**Clark**

Well, it looks like I may finally be off the hook for trying to solve the Elena Lincoln murder. Playing games with the life and reputation of an innocent man, never really sat well with me to begin with. Whoever is responsible for the demise of that bitch did one hell of a good job covering it up. Grey's right hand man Taylor would make the perfect suspect, but he had no motive.

Price and Carrick Grey had plenty of motive and the money to make things happen, but they both came up clean as a whistle. Linc Lincoln is a dumb schmuck who has a lot of circumstantial evidence and motive going against him, but no money to hire the hit. Some ghost or alien invader must have popped the old broad off.

Now the papers and television entertainment shows are all calling it the mystery of the century. Okay, it hasn't been a very long century yet, but it is a little over the top. Still, there's been all of this recent excavation and analysis of old unsolved murder cases from the twentieth century. And there are new theories flying flying around about a possible mass murderer by investigative reporters trying to make connection with previous unsolved murders.

Today, Carrick Grey walked into my office unexpectedly.

"So," he begins. "When are you finally going to let Lincoln off the hook from the ridiculous charge of murdering his ex-wife."

"What's it to you?" I ask suspiciously.

"If you try to arrest or indict him," he replies smoothly. "I will be representing him."

"I wasn't aware that you cared so much about him that you would be offering him free legal defense," I comment.

"I don't give a shit about him," he answers virtuously. "But I can't sit by and watch you put an innocent man in prison, or even attempt to."

"How do you know that he's innocent?" I ask meaningfully.

"Name me one piece of solid evidence that you have that establishes that he actually committed the crime himself or hired someone to do it," he shoots. "Physical evidence only."

He's got me there. We have a lot motive, but not even any real circumstantial evidence that will hold up in court. I can tell that he has som kind of skin in the game, but he's not giving away anything. However, it's hard to argue with him about his own motives for wanting to defend Lincoln.

Lincoln had never been any kind of a real friend to the Greys. He socialized with them while he was marries because Elena was friends with Grey's wife. There is no evidence of any connection to them after the divorce, which is natural. And Carrick Grey has a reputation as a real straight arrow. While he is royally pissed at Elena and the trouble that she and her murder have caused for his family, he would have no reason to defend a _guilty _man.

No, whatever the actual reason that Carrick Grey is standing in front of me, I'll never figure it out. But the department is getting sick of spending all of its limited time and resources on a case whose trail has obviously gone cold.

"We won't be pressing charges," I finally say. "You are correct we don't have any real evidence."

"Will you be telling the press that?" he persists.

"Sure," I say to get him out of my office.

"Good," he says, rising. "It's been nice doing business with you."

"Whatever," I mumble, as I pick up the phone to call the chief. I have a feeling that he is going to be only too happy to let the investigation go as well. Maybe they'll make some kind of _Lifetime _movie out of it someday.

**Carrick**

After speaking with Flynn, Taylor, and Price, I decide to call a family meeting. I need to get all six of us in the same room at the same time. I just got off the phone with Christian and he and Ana are returning tomorrow. They had a wonderful week in Aspen and he has finally felt the baby move for himself. I realize that my three conspirators are right. There is everything to gain and nothing to be lost by letting sleeping dogs lie at this point.

Clark has been handled much more easily than I had thought. It would appear that Price's scheme to interest the press in unsolved mysteries had caught fire. With the pressure from the media off, I could see that Clark was only too happy to chuck the whole investigation. I called Lincoln and told him the news. He didn't eve say thanks. He just said, "Good work."

I am sorry that I was not more agreeable to managing that situation before. It would have saved the family a whole lot of heartache. But as Flynn told me, the heartache does not have to continue. A dramatic confrontation with Christian would serve no purpose other than to dredge up a lot of old pain. And what is the point of that?

When families decide to confront alcoholics and drug users with their behavior, the point is to force them to acknowledge that their actions are hurting both themselves and those around them. In this case, the behavior we are talking about is old news. Christian has already confronted his demons and moved on. Flynn is right. Anybody who thinks that talking it all out and trying to understand it as this point is anyway beneficial, is wrong.

After dinner on Friday night, I assemble all six of us in the living room.

"Lincoln will not be charged in the murder case," I say briefly.

"So you have capitulated to his demands?" asks Grace.

"No," I reply. "That's not the point. The point is that he is innocent."

"How do you know he's innocent?" asks Mia.

"The same way that I know that you are innocent," I answer. "There's no evidence."

"But what about him inheriting all that money?" asks Elliot.

"That's motive, not evidence," I explain. "From the court's perspective, Mia's reckless statements and poor financial accounting actually provide some circumstantial evidence. But at this moment, that is not the point. The point is that the police will no longer be pursuing Lincoln."

"Will they be pursuing anyone?" asks Kate.

"You'll have to investigate that for yourself," I answer sharply. "That has nothing to do with me. But I have one more thing that I want to discuss."

"Yes, dear?" asks Grace.

"Last Sunday, Linc came in here and made some pretty shocking revelations about Christian," I say. "While I know that all of you want to discuss them with Christian, for whatever reason, I think that we all need to let it go."

"But why, Dad?" Mia whines. "I want some answers."

"About what?" I ask dryly. "What part of that is any of your business?"

She opens her mouth and then closes it. Kate looks around at us all.

"I came across evidence of his previous lifestyle months ago," she says. "In fact it was right before he and Ana were engaged. I confronted them and Christian told me that it was none of my business. Ana begged me not to say anything because it was irrelevant. I think that Carrick is right. We need to move on."

I notice Elliot giving her a nod of approval. No doubt they have also discussed this. Ethan also looks impressed. But Mia is still uncertain.

"I don't know if I can just drop it," she admits. "I mean, I feel like I need some kind of closure."

Now Grace shakes her head.

"The idea of closure is a myth, Mia," she says sadly. "You will not derive any satisfaction from opening up and discussing a painful topic that Christian has already come to terms with. He was a mixed up fifteen-year old boy who was seduced and abused by an adult woman who should have known better.

"Look at how happy he is now. Do you want to interfere with his and Ana's future happiness by ripping open past wounds. You will never have a rational or adequate explanation for what happened. Accept it and move on."

"Oh," she says quietly.

"I spoke with Christian earlier today," I add. "He and Ana have had a wonderful week in Aspen. They are returning rested and happy. Their time with the Prices was very good. Christian and Chris are developing a good friendship. Oh, and Melissa is expecting again."

"Oh, how lovely!" replies Grace. "I know that they have been trying for years."

"Do you think that it will be a boy?" asks Mia.

"I don't think that it matters," I say. "At Melissa's age, they are hoping for a healthy baby. And even if it were a boy, I doubt that it would change anything. Just because Christian has discovered who his birth father is, in no way changes his relationship with any of us. If they develop a solid friendship, it can only help Christian to further stabilize his progress."

"It in no way hurts him to find out that his parents were a pair of mixed up teenagers who got in trouble," continues Grace. "Christian was never going to feel truly good about himself until he realized that he wasn't the product of some sordid relationship between a prostitute and some pimp or John. Lets give him the freedom to enjoy that."

At this point we all nod. As usual, Grace is right. The future ahead looks a lot brighter than it certainly did a year ago, when Christian was still caught up in his self-loathing and unhealthy lifestyle. I, for one, am ready to set down the past and look forward to the future and the birth of my first grandchild. And that's the way that it should be.

**The End**

**Thanks for all of you who stuck through with me to the end and for all of your great reviews and PMs. You are an awesome group of readers!**


End file.
